No gift, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe
by Aeria
Summary: I'm back!!! Well here's Syd's reaction one of the last chapters so read and review. Sydney and her parents spend Christmas eve together and several run-ins ensue.
1. When she was Five

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Irina finds out it is Christmas day and is payed a visit by her daughter as she recalls her life as Laura.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Also I understand Jack seems very out of character in the memory, but hey, he was probably like that.  
  
Chapter One  
  
Irina sat in her cell, soft music and noise drifting through from outside where the guards had the door open as they swapped over. She heard them wish each other a Merry Christmas and her suspicions were confirmed. It had been Christmas Day for over fifteen hours and she had completely forgotten Christmas Eve. It wasn't because she didn't care, it was more that she had forgotten what month it was. There was no reason to keep track of the date down here, she had, of course, but the fact that she had woken up and known that it was the twenty fifth of December had meant nothing to her.  
  
She sighed heavily. She hated this cell, it was keeping her from the world and that pained her more than she was letting on. Freedom was one of the few things she needed and right now she didn't have it.  
  
No one had bothered to tell her either, typical, she was just another prisoner with neither name nor reason, just something that wasn't allowed out. Sydney had come a few days ago and she hadn't mentioned it and since then she had only had contact with the guard that brought her meals to her. He hadn't said anything though he had been wearing red that morning.  
  
Irina remembered last Christmas, she had been in Paris, not shacked up in some nice hotel, but down in the back streets and alleyways trading with the underworld. On Christmas Day. She laughed to herself; this wasn't really that bad. She stood up, the hard ground finally getting to her back and forcing her to find somewhere else to rest. She went and sat on her bed, pulling her legs up to her chest in a surprisingly defensive gesture.  
  
She remembered the Christmas before that and the one before that, no gifts, no Santa Clause, no mistletoe, no nothing. But back when she was pretending to be normal, she remembered Christmas as though it were only yesterday. The smells and tastes, sights and sounds, the entire sensation of it.  
  
Sydney's fifth Christmas was the one that stuck out as her favourite, her most memorable and Irina found herself looking around her to make sure there were no guards watching too closely. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall. Immediately she smelt the pine tree that sat beside the picture window in the front room, the turkey, sitting on the table, the plum pudding that sat cooling in the kitchen.  
  
It was Christmas night, wrapping paper was strew all over the floor, pine needles mixed in. Presents; a few dolls that Jack had insisted on, some beginners' books, pencils and pads of paper, as Sydney loved to draw, sat beneath the Christmas tree where they had been ripped open earlier that day. To the side, a purple bike with a yellow bow sat, glinting brand new in the light the hundreds of tree globes gave off.  
  
The three sat at the wood table where they ate all their meals, the table covered in cooking that had been in the oven for most of the day. Irina's own skills weren't great, while Jack's little known secret would always come out as he stalked around the kitchen commanding as though it were a very serious matter. Earlier, Sydney had giggled hysterically as Irina had saluted Jack when he told her to 'throw the turkey in or we wouldn't eat until new years' and soon after the three had been laughing quite madly as their toaster malfunctioned and ate the bread they had been cooking for lunch.  
  
It was a strange tradition that had begun for no reason, but they never had a real Christmas lunch, it was always dinner, they would sit down at seven, Sydney tired, but becoming more and more alert each year, and they would talk and eat until Sydney ran off for some reason or another.  
  
Turkey, ham, roast vegetables, sauces and gravy covered the table, in between, bits of holly and candy canes added colour. Jack sat across from his wife, Laura, and Sydney sat, for the first time at Christmas, on a chair just like her parents, between them. Sydney had rambled on for hours about how great Santa Clause was; Jack and Laura just exchanging smiles and nodding to her when she commented on his grandness.  
  
Laura had noticed that Sydney hadn't touched anything on her plate and proceeded to try to get her to eat, playfully temping her, spooning peas towards her mouth and when they were rejected, redirecting the spoon over to her husband's own awaiting lips, giggling as more than half ended up on the floor. After several different approaches and many more mishaps, Sydney eventually revealed what she wanted; a bowl of apple sauce.  
  
Laughing, Laura filled a bowl to overflowing and proceeded to place it in front of her daughter. For the remainder of the meal they ate, happily remembering the past, Jack exchanging happy looks with his wife, silent pauses of silent conversation which were cut off short by the outburst of their only daughter.  
  
Eventually Sydney got sick of eating and, even after two plentiful serves of pudding and ice cream she wouldn't sleep, instead getting up and running off to ride her knew bike, up and down the halls, her hair billowing out behind her as she raced harder and harder. Jack and Laura just remained at the table, watching each other, smiling contently and silently waiting for their daughter to decide that she had had enough and disappear, leaving them alone.  
  
Laura's brow finally creased, her spoon still in hand she asked, "Where's she gone?" It was considered normal for Sydney to come and kiss them both goodnight before going to sleep and Laura found it hard to imagine where she could possibly be, considering it was suddenly quiet. Jack shrugged before standing, offering his wife a hand and making off through the house in search of Sydney.  
  
They found her, still astride her bike, in the hallway, head resting peacefully on her hands as she leaned over the handlebars. Jack grinned before lifting her gently up off the bike and turning towards her bedroom. Laying her in bed, he kissed her forehead gently, whispering goodnight, to which she squirmed and smiled blissfully.  
  
Laura just watched Jack from behind, a deep feeling of sadness and regret eating away at her, deep in her stomach. When it came to her turn, she walked over and did the same, moving a strand of her brown hair from her eyes and letting the back of her hand trail down her innocent face and neck, silently making her Christmas wish: May you not grow up to be your mother. She turned and crept out of the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
Smiling at his wife, Jack reclaimed her hand and led her back towards the lounge room. Once there he sighed before bending over to begin the clean up, Laura just grinning at his behind and turned to the dining area, beginning to move all of the plates and left over food into the kitchen.  
  
Twenty minutes later, she heard the front door shut and surmised that Jack had just gone out to dump the rubbish. She leaned over the sink and let her head drop, the façade allowed to leave her, if only for a fleeting second. She swallowed hard, shutting her eyes and reminding herself that what she was doing was all for the good of her country. That it was all for good. She heard the door shut again and stood back up, continuing to scrub at the dishes where bits of turkey remained.  
  
She felt hands encircle her slim waist from behind and felt his breath around her ears. She smiled, her eyes dropping back to the sink. "I have to get all of this done. Now," she whispered, her neck bending as she felt his lips nearing her skin, then he was gone, her body cold where his heat had been seconds before. For the briefest second she felt like calling him back, but she knew she had to clean it all up first.  
  
He returned to her side sporting a wet cloth, nudging her out of the way he said, "You dry, I'll wash." It was another order that he was making in jest. She took her hands out of the water thankfully and pulled off the gloves she'd been wearing. Finding a towel she began to dry, letting her head fall to rest on his shoulder.  
  
They remained like that until every dish was clean and dried, only separating when they realised that there was nothing left to do. Leaning over Laura put the plates away as Jack left the platers out on the table, deciding to put them away in the morning as they belonged in the cupboard and finding space might take hours.  
  
She turned to him and grinned, "All done." He grinned back and nodded, wondering how he had been so lucky to find her and for him to even notice him. Wandering over, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, this time from the front, and she leaned in, placing her head on his shoulder, his forehead finding it's way to the crook of her own neck, his eyes probably closed and his breathing soft and even.  
  
Irina hated and loved that day all at once. It was one of the first times she had truly wondered whether she really was on the right team, whether doing this to such an innocent, sweet man was worth whatever it was they were getting from him. And from that day on, she had hardened herself, working more and acting less, avoiding him as much as often and loosing her edge. That Christmas had been the beginning of her end at KGB and thus the beginning of her life as the queen of organised crime.  
  
Irina let a hand rub over her face, trying to rid her eyes of the sleep and grime that was slowly building up despite her access to water. A soft cough forced her back to go rigid. Someone was here and she hadn't heard them enter nor felt their presence. Opening her eyes she saw her daughter, now a woman but someone who still reminded her of the five year old, waiting with a look of disguised hope on her face.  
  
Sydney smiled at her mother who was sitting on her bed, obviously not doing as well as she usually portrayed, her hair a little more unmanaged, her body curled up defensively and her eyes closed as she went over some memory, possibly of her. Irina got up quickly and ran a hand through her hair, the brown strands instantly regaining their composure somehow. She walked over to the window and nodded to her, a warm feeling growing inside both of them.  
  
Sydney shrugged her shoulders, "I just wanted to come by and see how you were going. I know I probably shouldn't but I just wanted to come and wish you a merry Christmas." Irina smiled at her, her eyes sad.  
  
"Thank you," the irony hit her and she couldn't help but voice it. "I don't think it's going to be merry but, not as bad as it was ten minutes ago." She let her eyes drop; either because she wanted Sydney to think her submissive or because she was submissive, even Irina wasn't sure.  
  
Sydney grinned; her mother's comments warming her. "I can stay a while." She paused before adding quietly, "If you want." This was obviously some sort of reconciliation, some sort of beginning that either Jack had put her up to as a mission to find a whole in her mother's story or she was truly trying to forge an alliance. Irina nodded.  
  
"What are your plans?" Irina wanted to know, god knew why, but she wanted to know what her daughter was going to do for Christmas Night.  
  
Sydney smiled, her mother picking a topic that she could discuss easily, "Will, Francie and I, they're my friends, we're just going to hang out at home. Have Christmas dinner. The usual." She smiled as she imagined the night ahead, full of laughs and too much alcohol.  
  
Irina smiled sadly, a question begging to be asked, "Your father?"  
  
Sydney shook her head, stretching a hand out so that she no longer had to look her mother in the eye but instead could admire her nails. "I don't know, I called him, but he said he didn't want to intrude." Irina nodded, sadly. "I don't know what he does, probably sits at home and does paper work." A dull laugh escaped her lips, spiked with deceit and disgust. "I doubt he even realises what day it is."  
  
"It's not his fault," her own brow creased as she realised she was defending Jack, "I mean, he doesn't have very much to be happy about." She shook her head as she noticed Sydney watching her intently. "He has nothing but you, you must realise that."  
  
Sydney looked at her incredulously. "You know when we were on the train." Irina nodded, wondering where this was heading. "The whole toaster thing; that was the first time I've seen him smile properly since you left." Sydney was being blatantly honest; Irina could see the risk that she was taking.  
  
Irina spoke, "it was a memory of you..." she trailed off, hoping that Sydney would drop it, the issue pinching at her insides with acute, sharp aches.  
  
"No, it was a memory of you," Sydney's eyes widened a little as she stumbled onto a truth, "It was a memory of Laura, but, I think that you must have been very much like Laura, so essentially it was a memory of you. Of you and him together that made him smile."  
  
Irina shook her head, not really wanting to admit that Sydney might have been right but Sydney continued to think out loud, her father's warning of thinking before talking long forgotten.  
  
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	2. Watching

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Sydney and Irina talk on Christmas Day  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Hope you are all enjoying this, I love writing. Merry Christmas to you all, It's 5pm boxing day here.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
"I don't remember what you were like, when you were under the alias of Laura, I mean, you left when I was only a few years into Primary school. But I do have a select few memories, Christmases, parties, birthdays and just trivial little things. Not much, but since you left, I worked to piece together an image of you. What I thought you must have been like." Irina watched her, careful not to let her see how hopeful she was of Sydney revealing her true ideals of a mother to her.  
  
Sydney continued, not bothering to look up, her mind still churning over. "The vision of a mother who was a teacher, who loved tenderly, who was perfect enough to find love in a man as desolate as my father, that vision was smashed when I found out who you had truly been, not just when you left, but right through the marriage, because I thought, I found out, that you were a murderer, ruthless and horrible. "Sydney looked up quickly, noting the apparent hurt and withdrawal in her mother's eyes. "But, maybe I was wrong."  
  
Irina watched her with growing interest in how her genius daughter had come to this conclusion. "Maybe, the woman I imagined wasn't really that far from the truth." Sydney licked her lips, her mouth drying as she recognised how close to the edge she was playing, "The career, the history, they were wrong. You weren't some brilliant English professor, you were a crime goddess. But the attributes, the core of you, of Laura, they're the same, no matter how I look at them. I think..."  
  
Irina shook her head quickly, admitting; "I don't understand."  
  
Sydney watched her for a moment, trying to gather her own thoughts, "I always thought that my mother must have been highly ambitious, intelligent, quick, physically well kept, passionate, never giving up, tenacious." She paused, smiling weakly at her mother through the glass. "And you are."  
  
Irina nodded in agreement as she realised that Sydney was totally right. Laura might have had a different life, but her core was still the same. Still, Irina had to be sure of what he daughter was implying, "What do you mean?"  
  
Sydney smiled, slumping a little, mentally tired from her mind's work out. "You are still exactly the same person as my mom was. You just have a different life and a different history. I know this sounds really silly, that what I'm admitting is dangerous to admit to anyone, especially to you, but after India, after everything that you have done, I'm inclined to trust you, to tell you as much as I can without giving you exact details that you don't even need to know." She grinned as she looked back up to see a tear falling in a straight and somehow elegant line down her mother's cheek.  
  
Irina was inclined to turn away when Sydney looked up, emotion a sign of weakness and what mother would want her daughter to think her weak. But she knew that Sydney had undoubtedly already seen the falling drop of salt water. Irina didn't turn away at all and was rewarded with a gleeful grin. "People don't fake tears," she told the young, defenceless woman in front of her. "Ask your father, not once in our marriage did I use tears when I didn't mean them. I'll never know why." Irina grinned back.  
  
Sydney watched her, unable to voice what it was she had just decided upon. "What happens next?"  
  
Irina shrugged. "I think that's up to you."  
  
Sydney nodded thoughtfully. "What about dad? Do I tell him?"  
  
Irina felt like she really was a mother for the second time since her return, the first in India when helping Sydney with her gash. "It's up to you, he's bound to take it badly, but he'd go to the edge of the earth and over and into oblivion for you," at a look of doubt from Sydney, Irina raised a hand, "He would, he has a weird way of showing it, but Jack would die just to see you happy."  
  
Sydney nodded, knowing she was right. "I have to tell him. And Vaughn." She watched her mother for a response and was slightly rattled when she grinned again, the motion obviously foreign on her features.  
  
"Tell me about this Vaughn. Why don't you call him Michael?" Irina was leading the conversation slowly away from Jack, the talking point still far too tender for her.  
  
Sydney felt herself blush and looked down, much to the delight of her newest confidant as she chuckled, the laughter coming from deep in her throat. Telling her about him would be dangerous as it would reveal a soft spot which could be poked at, still, Irina was close enough to already know Sydney' soft spots, now about her friends and her father. "He's my handler; I'm expected to call him by his last name."  
  
Irina grinned, locking eyes with her daughter as she looked up. "Then why does he always call you Sydney? Or...Syd?"  
  
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Sydney laughed and continued. "Look...mom...it's not like anything could ever happen." Irina shrugged. "He's just a really good friend who I can share anything and everything with. He's saved my life, I've saved his." Irina was nodding slowly, noting everything in her daughter's voice and filing it away for later scrutiny.  
  
"He likes you," she told her softly. "As more than just as friends."  
  
Sydney nodded, "Me too, but until the world is free of evil, nothing can come of it."  
  
Irina cut across her, "You couldn't just tell him?"  
  
"I could, but nothing could come of it." Irina noticed that she had used the same phrase twice and surmised that Sydney had had this conversation with herself before.  
  
"He deserves to know," holding up a hand, she continued, "Think about it." Sydney nodded, but didn't speak. "You should be getting home; you'll be missed by your friends."  
  
Sydney shook her head, "No, I'll stay here, they can wait." Irina smiled at her, a little bewildered that her daughter could choose sitting with a murderer in a cold, dark, dank cell over eating dinner with her friends in their home.  
  
"Tell me, if you don't mind, about these friends." Irina was intrigued that Sydney had managed to grab a normal life along with the life of the cursed. "I would like to know who my daughter is hanging out with," she grinned at her.  
  
"Francie lives with me and Will may as well, he eats all his meals there and crashes most nights. They're my best friends," Irina nodded but didn't interrupt. "Francie is innocent, completely; I have to feel sorry for her, she has no idea. We keep organising things, to do together, and then I have to run off to Spain or Chile and cancel on her. She was engaged a few months back, to this great guy called Charlie." She continued to listen to her daughter, the question she had asked having first been asked to stay away from the subject of Jack, but now, Irina was finding the topic of interest to her.  
  
"Charlie, I thought he was really nice, but it turned out he was cheating on her." Sydney laughed a little, "I should have noticed, but I didn't and it almost killed her."  
  
Irina nodded, understanding the predicament in a round-a-bout way. "Will...he was why you came to Taipei?"  
  
Sydney looked down, the memory reminding her of what her mother was capable of. "Yes, Vaughn and I, we had to get him. He's a great guy and my friend, but a reporter."  
  
Her mother laughed, a small smile taking over her face with different angles and ideas. "Ahhh...a reporter, I'd heard Sloane was after him." Irina looked down as Sydney looked back up, still not ready to face her.  
  
"Yes, he was a reporter, now he just, isn't." Irina sensed that she had stumbled onto an area which she wasn't supposed to know about.  
  
Sydney nodded, "He didn't mean to dig it up, but after SD-6 killed Danny," she looked up to see if Irina knew what she was talking about, Irina inclined her head so she continued. "He decided something was going on and no matter what he had to pursue it. He ended up in a lot of trouble..."  
  
Irina wasn't going to push the subject when Sydney was obviously unprepared to talk about it. "Honestly," Irina stood up and wandered over to her bed where she sat down, still looking at Sydney. "You should go, it must be getting late outside, and I don't want to keep you from having a great evening."  
  
For a moment, Sydney thought that her mother must have some ulterior motive for telling her to leave, but with a rush of emotion, the openness in her face told her that she simply wanted her to have a good time. She wasn't trying to weasel into anything, or trick, or deceive. Sydney nodded happily and stood up. "I like talking to you," Irina swallowed, "I do, but you're right, I have to get home."  
  
Irina nodded and watched her daughter's departing form as it turned around the corner and disappeared. Leaning back against the wall again, Irina acknowledged, some what surprised, that this was her best Christmas since leaving despite the fact she was in custody, she was severely hated by people she cared for and her life was at risk.  
  
Sydney exited the underground secret base and headed straight home to join her friends, a warm bubbly feeling of happiness rising in her stomach. She drove slowly, the roads cold, her heating on high, but still broken form last year's winter. Will and Francie would undoubtedly be waiting for her, eager to open something filled with alcohol as, despite the fact that Will wasn't supposed to; Sydney had convinced Francie to let him just this once.  
  
Arriving outside her house, she saw that both cars were there and she could almost feel the mirth and warmth that awaited her inside. Still, she sat, alone in the car, slightly shivering, smiling because of the knowledge that, for the first time in twenty years she had spent Christmas with her mother.  
  
Back at the cell, Irina was feeling giddy almost, a feeling she had rarely felt over the past years. She turned from leaning back against the wall to lay, her hands behind her head and a grin upon her face, on her bed. She was beaming radiantly at the ceiling for a reason she couldn't yet put her finger on, but, she was, indeed, happy to be feeling like this.  
  
Upstairs, in the small room where security cameras, with out audio until a couple of weeks ago, were watched by a mixture of top CIA psychologists and agents on most days, one man sat alone, staring with utter bewilderment and a dim fear written across his face. He reached over to the VCR and pulled the tape out, putting another one in and pocketing the only proof that the conversation he'd just witnessed had ever occurred.  
  
Slightly scared, he opened the door and nodded to the guard who spoke into his radio and disappeared into the security room. Walking slowly, gathering his thoughts, he felt for his gun, a common motion when he been younger. He rounded the corner and saw her, Irina Derevko, lying; perfectly content it would seem, on her bed.  
  
The sound of footsteps alerted her and she swung around, sitting up, powerful arms and legs, propelling her body up into standing with ease. She had expected dinner; she was faced with her apparently still legitimate husband.  
  
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	3. To argue!

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Sydney and Irina talk on Christmas Day, enter Jack  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Hope you are all enjoying this, I love writing. Merry Christmas to you all.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Irina lifted a hand to her mouth, her defences down due to her meeting with Sydney and her subconscious having been sure Jack wouldn't show up on Christmas day, she suddenly felt unsure how she should act. Carefully, she sat back down on her bed, a safe distance from the window and scrambling to cover her unusually open face. "Jack," hoping to sound bored, Irina's voice came out in shock and she quickly shut her mouth, preparing to try again.  
  
He watched her with caution, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes flickering around her desolate room, as though in search for something to yell at her about, a scratch in the wall he could mistake for an attempted escape or a rip in her sheets. Eventually, he turned to look at her, scowling in his normal way, he sat down and stared. "Irina," he didn't continue, leaving off and leading into an uncomfortable silence of bemusement and aimless searching for both of them.  
  
Irina thought a moment about letting herself get mad at him, yelling until she could yell no more, something she had always dreamt of doing, but chose not to at the last minute, instead, settling more into the hard mattress, her arms behind her and her weight on them completely as they propped her up. Opting for the truth, half knowing that he probably already knew: "Sydney was just here."  
  
He nodded, slowly, not giving any more away than necessary, and even then, not enough to use against him. "I know," He looked at her with more scrutiny and contempt than before and Irina was forced to wonder what was hiding underneath. "I was watching, your cameras." He pointed up, wondering why she hadn't realised someone would notice her little conversation. Of course, Irina had, but she didn't care if people were watching, only if he was watching. "They give audio, visual; all on tape." He pulled a black cassette from the inside of his coat and held it out.  
  
Irina had to wonder where he was taking this and she went through all the possibilities, eventually deciding that he was simply buying time, forming his own plan in his own mind. She stood up and crossed over to the window, sitting down she asked, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"  
  
His head shot up quicker than he would have liked, his eyes flickering with light quickly, "No." The answer came out before Jack could stop it and he instantly regretted it, seeing the smirk over taking Irina's lips.  
  
"You're spending Christmas with your wife?" she asked, quietly, laughing a little under her words and at the same time sad that such a statement should be anything but true. "How ironic. No one even knows that you're married."  
  
Jack shot up, quickly and turned his back on her, without thought and without bothering to try to salvage his pride. "Irina, I'm here to discuss Sydney, I don't appreciate you playing with her like you do." He trailed off, wanting to see if he could get anything out of her worth remembering.  
  
Slightly hurt by his words, but not sure of the reason, she played with his sentence, looking for a weakness and grabbing the first one she found. "You know..." she paused, giving him time to dread what was coming. "It's a wonder that you call me by my first name." It sank in before Irina continued her assault. "I mean, does the CIA usually tolerate prisoners to be called by their first names, because I know that when it occurs between an agent and a handler," she cocked her head, slightly, smiling at his suddenly stiffened back, "Like, for instance if Agent Vaughn was to call Sydney by her first name. He'd be accused of emotional attachment. Isn't it the same for a prisoner of my type?"  
  
Jack continued to look away, letting her words hit him with full force, not ready to give in and shut them out. She was having a shot at him and he wasn't going to give her any more pleasure than necessary, but he had no rebut for what she'd just told him, it was, mostly, true. He turned around a little further, preparing to try to return the conversation to a topic he could control.  
  
He didn't get a word in, Irina's voice hitting him again, accent thick and amusement among other things underlying her words. "I mean, if you were to call me Laura," another pause. "They'd have a psychiatrist on you in no time, but being able to call me by my real first name, that's something different."  
  
Jack couldn't stop himself from letting it out, "You're not Laura." He stayed where he was, his face shadowed and darkened without enough light for her to make out anything for sure. His words were covered in spite and anger but still cold and unemotional, as though it was a rule that he consider her so. Again, Irina had to wonder what it was that he was hiding underneath.  
  
She shook he head, slowly, moving enough so that he could see her and continuing. "I am to some degree. Though, no, I don't suppose I am. Does that upset you Jack?" She waited for a response but got none, standing, she moved to the window and took a seat. "You've never spoken of me as Laura since I got back?" She waited, looking for a reaction and seeing his fists clench at his side, proved that he had indeed.  
  
In Jack's mind, the meeting with Barnett ran back through his mind and he scowled at the wall he was looking at. "Never," he spat out, covering the word in hatred, purposely pouring anger and abuse into his voice.  
  
She pouted to the window, not thinking he would see, but doing it to keep the game alive. "I don't believe you, Jack..." again she let her voice trail off, his name rolling off her tongue, so like it had millions of times before.  
  
Taking a deep breath that he hoped she wouldn't notice, Jack turned around and faced her, a smug look about her face, shoulders back, chin up, neck flexed and arms lying out on the bench in front of her. She raised an eyebrow and smiled arrogantly. "But, if I'm already so sure, I don't need you to tell me that I'm right." It was a question and a statement of defiance and amusement all in one.  
  
Jack just looked back, his face closed off, having found something to ground himself, he appeared perfectly happy to stand there and take anything she chose to throw at him now.  
  
Seeing this, Irina picked up the pace, changing the topic without caring about flow, only trying to find a weak spot. "What about Vaughn then?" She had been expecting a wince, but when he just looked back she dug further. "He's quite the lady's man. He's got Sydney wrapped around his little finger. She's totally in love with him," she slowed her voice, careful not to let Jack see that this wasn't the whole or exact truth. "Could be the death of her. She'll end up in too deep." It was hurting her to even think about her daughter dying, the thought that any man could control her stinging with a weird sense of deja vu, but on the outside, she just kept speaking, biting at Jack's wounds and increasing his fears.  
  
"I don't know what would happen if she ever dreamt of doing anything...against protocol. I mean, she would get fired, or, more probably, in a lot of trouble with Sloane. I wouldn't trust him." Irina realised that she was stuffing Sydney's life up if Jack was dumb enough to take all of this to heart and silently promised herself that at the end of it all, she would try to fix it. At that moment, it didn't really matter. Her adrenaline was up and her passions on fire. "He is rather good looking though, smart, sweet, concerned for Sydney, who wouldn't fall for him. Risk their world." Each word came out in syllables, eliciting memories.  
  
Jack remembered the several occasions on which Sydney had risked her world for Vaughn and quickly steadied himself, recognising what Irina was doing and grabbing a hold of himself, keeping calm and quiet, waiting for her to put a foot out, his many traps set, but all of them just out of reach.  
  
"And this whole mix up with people working for at least three different agencies, I mean, no one can just be a spy anymore, they have to be a double agent," she moved off in a different tangent and Jack settled down to listen. "Or a triple agent. There must be a double at the CIA, how do you think I get all my Intel?" Irina had expected this, at least, to get a reaction out of him, but he just looked at her coldly. "Maybe it's you..." she grinned, letting a hand come up to hold her chin in mock thought, "Or...oh, hang on, this is perfect, this fits wonderfully, maybe it's Agent Vaughn..." She laughed outright, letting the humour flow through her body and her eyes flickering at the thought while her mind silently hoped she wasn't right.  
  
Jack just continued to stare at her, inside he could feel his blood boiling, and his mind hurting as a headache emerged quickly and defiantly. He doubted what she was saying was true. On the surface, it all made sense, but taking time to look at her so called truths, Jack found no supporting evidence and surmised that she was flat out lying. With more control than he had ever shown, he spoke, his voice level, calm, not hostile, not welcoming, not offensive, not defensive, and yet not nothing. "I doubt that."  
  
Quickly her laughter dimmed and her face fell, Jack's mind registered a win and he couldn't help but smirk at her, his eyes still concentrating, but his mouth in a small grin of victory.  
  
She just looked at him and pushed the blade in deeper, twisting it, trying to find some sort of pain. "What about me," she winced back at her own words, her mind anticipating the attack her heart was about to throw at her own husband. "Is it possible that I am not evil?" She bit her lip, her feet squirming beneath the table, involuntarily.  
  
Jack watched her, intrigued and slightly scared all at once. He was feeling at the question, it had taken a savage bite out of him, but he was too interested in the effect it was having on Irina; her own words apparently hurting her more than him.  
  
Still, she pushed on, trying desperately to find a response, to win even the smallest of battles, just so that she didn't have to find a reason for her own downfall. "That I do have passions, emotions, that I might actually have a heart underneath and not just be the uncaring, callous monster you're telling everyone I am. Maybe I do like Sydney, I love our daughter; it could all be true. That I love Sydney, has it occurred to you? At all?" She paused, looking for an answer and getting none, Jack simply looking back at her, slight shock edging onto his face but nothing she could consider a win.  
  
She stood and moved away from the window, her head dropping down and a hand raising to her forehead to massage at her temples, her body giving up, but her mind and her mouth throwing out one more curve ball. "Have you never thought that maybe I'm still in love with the life I left, that I am indeed still completely in love with that innocent girl that I raised, that I'm still in love with -" she stopped abruptly, her eyes wide and her voice gone, perhaps forever as her mouth was as dry as the Sahara. She realised that she had gone too far and that she was no longer fighting Jack but fighting truths she didn't want to know about.  
  
Yummy, best chapter yet in my opinion, you'll have to review hard to get more! 


	4. Explainations and Confrontations

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Irina finds out it is Christmas day and is payed a visit by her daughter as she recalls her life as Laura.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: Ahem, be very impressed, that's like 8000 words and I stared at like 8 pm. So be impressed and review! It is very hard updating all four at once and if you like all of them review all of them. If you only like one, go and read the others, you'll like them! Please, oh please, oh please, I neeeeeeeeeeeed reviews, like oh so badly!  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Jack was winning, he knew it, he was way out in front, not just by a nose or a neck, but laps in front, there was no way he could loose this and yet Irina was still trying with all her heart to find something that would hurt him, would him, even if it only gave her one point when Jack now had hundreds. But then she tired and he could see her body giving up, her shoulders dropping forward, her head down, eyes to the ground in defeat and moving away from him. It was then that he had truly thought he had won, that she would just go and never talk to him again, or retreat for a day and come back and attack him again.  
  
But that hadn't been the case. Her body was down and out, but her heart was still in it and he could see straight away that she was going to blurt out anything she thought would hurt him and for a moment he thought about stopping her. Curiosity won though, Jack vying not to raise a hand and turn away, but to continue to watch, fixated with the passion that was still there but in defence, in a way he hadn't seen. The minute the words escaped her mouth, Jack vowed never to be curious again.  
  
He could guess what the last word would have been, what she would have said, had she not stopped herself at the last minute, but his mind and his heart fought it until it was just a suppressed memory, bordering on a stupid nightmare and a lie he'd made up for fun. She wasn't going to say his name, he knew that. She would have said something else. Jack watched her, still careful not to lose anything, her brown eyes just staring back at him, complete and utter shock taking her face over.  
  
Irina was scared, her back stiff, hairs pricking up on the back of her neck, her insides shivering quietly and unnoticeably, her heart rate increasing to a million beats per second as she looked at him, unable to tear her eyes away from his. After minutes of staring she slumped and collapsed, not too quickly, but fast enough to cause alarm to rise slowly, for her, unwanted and unexpected in Jack's mind, onto the brown floor in a heap, her legs folding and her arms lifeless as she sat on the ground, her eyes still on Jack as she silently wished he'd just turn around and leave.  
  
But he didn't, he continued to look at her, an edge of alarm in his eyes but probably, she decided, only because he was scared of her dying after only spending a few months in this hell. She gulped and felt the lump in her throat tighten, her breathing hurting her as she tried to keep it even and slaved away, wishing and hoping that she could hold out until Jack left. But she didn't know why he was just standing there, looking at her, not saying anything, not really looking at her with contempt or hate, just standing motionless above her.  
  
In the back of his mind, Jack told himself that he'd won, that he had finally defeated the great monster. But he felt like he'd died and was in hell. On the outside, he continued to hold the façade in place, his grip slipping here and there and some places growing too heavy and drooping, but inside, he was different. Inside he was more of a mess than he had been at any time in the past ten years, inside he felt like she'd just left him again, as though she had driven off the pier and disappeared and he wanted to apologise for it.  
  
But he didn't know for exactly what, so he just stood there and watched her, not happy, not sad, just with a deep feeling of regret, loss, guilt, contempt and disdain.  
  
Irina swallowed again, her throat constricting more and her eyes shutting in anticipation of tears. She shook her head, her hair flying out of her tie and falling to her shoulders and obscuring the view of her face. Looking up, her eyes shut even tighter, eyelids pushing together, not ready to reveal to Jack just how vulnerable she might be after all.  
  
Jack's curiosity was back with full force and his promise to ignore was gone. Leaning in slightly, his hands went automatically to the bench top and he sat down, not gracefully but not collapsing as his wife had done. "Show me."  
  
He had no real reason for saying it, but he did, it didn't really mean anything and he just told himself that he had done it because he thought it would upset it more. Unluckily it did and she opened her eyes, looking at him a brief second, before returning to look at the ground once more, her eyes focused on one point in the hope that he wouldn't see.  
  
But he did, the drop of water hitting the ground with a resounding splash and a quick intake of air from Irina that was loud enough to send Jack's head shooting up as he recognised the sound. Looking at Irina with a mixture of deadly curiosity and doubt in his eyes he listened, staring at the place where a small round dot lay beneath Irina's face on the cold, hard floor.  
  
Her head was down, her hair forming a curtain as she silently tried to pull herself together, to will the tears to stop, telling herself that she could do it, that what she was doing was part of her plan that it was all fake. When, inside, she knew it couldn't be, that these were real, that they were all real and that, as another fell, she realised that they weren't going to stop no matter how hard she tried.  
  
Jack watched her, doubt turning into assurance as he became more and more sure that what he was seeing was not a dream and that she couldn't be faking it so well. Tear after tear fell to the ground, her wavy hair looking somehow elegant as the waterfall continued, little circles of colour landing on the ground in front of her, causing even more to spill over.  
  
He could have sworn she was sobbing without the raking noises , but knew there was no way to prove it, just sitting down to wait it out, all the time wondering how she had managed to either pull this kind of emotion off as an act or to keep so much feeling hidden. He ended up leaning over, head on his hands, trying to examine her in such a weak state, and his brow creased, no longer in anger but in worry. For someone.  
  
Jack wasn't really ready to admit it to everyone but he finally realised that perhaps she had been about to say Jack, of course, he could never really be sure and felt it best to ignore it. He was almost feeling sorry for her; such a lonesome life, with no one to talk to, no one to trust. Much like his own life, or Sydney's. She wasn't really moving, not heaving like she probably should have been, just little noises, a gulp or an intake of air or a frustrated sigh, and her tears as they fell, never stopping or slowing, just falling.  
  
For a second, Jack wished he could go and comfort her, an image of him holding her, telling her it was okay, flashed though his mind and he didn't ignore it this time, he looked at it and realised that one of two things was occurring. Either she was truly getting to him, tricking him with her falsities and fakes tears or he was getting to her. He didn't like the idea of either of them. The first one didn't fit, many other tears looked too real and the ones she had shed for Sydney had been when there was no one there to trick, only the security tapes that she wouldn't have expected anyone to look at so closely. The second would mean that she was telling the truth, that she was not a monster and that she did love Sydney and... He let the thought trail off, the ideas popping into his head, unwelcomed into the mundane mess.  
  
Eventually she stopped and looked up at him, her eyes wet and her hair running everywhere. She looked at him with a mixture of defeat and hope in her eyes. Irina choose to see if she could swing her outburst her way, whether this was for the sake of her unknown ulterior motives or because she wanted something else, she wouldn't even admit to herself. She stood and went and sat on her bed, her arms at her sides, her face regaining its composure quickly and her hands soon fixing her hair so that it sat flat and neat.  
  
Jack was intrigued that the woman in front of him had been crying almost hysterically minutes before but now looked as she did at all other times. "Well?" she asked, trying to get a reaction from him before he could see what had happened properly.  
  
"Well what?" his voice was warmer, not welcoming, but interested in something other than getting rid of her.  
  
She looked at him a minute. Before licking her lips and looking down. "What does this mean? Does this change anything?" She let the words roll, some slow, some quick, her mind, back in control of her voice and her heart hushed into a weak second vote. "What do you think?"  
  
He looked at her and bit his lip before letting his mouth say what he was thinking; silently praying he wouldn't regret it too soon. "I'm stunned," she grinned, sadly, "No, you just broke down and I didn't think you could do that. And now, you look just like you do any other day." He bit his lip, seeing many points where, if she wanted, she could throw an attack at him. "What about you?"  
  
She laughed, her voice deep, her entire body back to its normal playful self now that she had finished. "I don't understand."  
  
"I mean," it was turning into a chat when Jack would report it as an interrogation to the CIA. "What just happened?" It was a silly question, but Irina had revealed a large weakness and it had totally changed the dynamic of them. "Do you do that a lot?"  
  
"No, I just. I don't. It just got a little too much. I'm fine now." Jack immediately picked up on the lie and shook his head, thinking for a moment about pushing the issue. But she spoke before he had the chance. "About before."  
  
He wasn't sure when she as referring to and he cocked his head in question. "When?"  
  
Irina looked down, slightly unsure of herself and how to pursue the subject. "What I said about loving Sydney," she had Jack's full attention now, "It's true." It was a sort of a plea, a bargaining tool, a last hope or wish, her voice was all wrong for Irina and Jack couldn't help but miss her old assertiveness and enjoy this soft subtlety at the same time. "You do believe me, don't you?"  
  
Read and Review and go and read my other three fics or else!!! Reviews are like water to me!!!! 


	5. Humour if you want it or not

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Irina finds out it is Christmas day and is payed a visit by her daughter as she recalls her life as Laura.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: There you go, next part and very quickly! Must say, this one is being posted at the SD-6 boards before fanfiction.net ooooo, shocking news!! Read and Review, that's why I wrote this one!  
  
Chapter Five.  
  
Jack looked down for a while, his hands weaving in and out of each other as his brain worked away at all of the evidence that had accumulated in Irina's defence and offence. The fact that she had shed tears was strengthening, that she hadn't killed Sydney, that she hadn't escaped and run, that she had helped and probably saved his daughter's life on more than one occasion were all positive signs. Jack had re read papers Sydney had written about Taipei and the knowledge that Irina had shot her in the left shoulder and not the right or killed her straight off were tugging at Jack's mind, telling him to believe her if not fall completely and blindly and trust her.  
  
On the other hand, Irina had ran out on them both, had lied, had cheated, had used them both for her own gain and this, of course wasn't going to help the internal argument's resolution in coming any faster. Looking at her, he half expected to see her crying again, the image of her tear stained face still fresh in his mind and his entire understanding of her changing more quickly than he'd thought he would be capable of doing.  
  
Involuntarily, he started nodding, slowly at first, but soon more sure of himself. "Yes, I think I do." He could hear her release a lungful of breath that she'd been keeping for the past few moments. Her head dropping in a mixture of relief and happiness as the beginnings of trust began to appear in Jack's mind. "Though, I have to ask why you left her."  
  
For a moment, Irina thought he had said 'us' and was eager to explain, but looking back over his words, her hope dimmed as she registered that he was still acting like she had only left Sydney and not him as well. Dimming she still answered, trying to sound honest but only appearing earnest. "It was my job." He shook his head, not accepting it and delving in for more. Still looking down she tried again, "It was becoming too complicated. The KGB was falling apart, no longer a government run organisation, but a renegade intelligence. And they were worried I might betray them, decide to stay." She paused, waiting for a reaction, but got none, Jack's eyes just watching her with hungry curiosity. "They pulled me out, threatened that if I didn't return, they would kill me."  
  
Jack nodded, slowly, "So you just left?" There was passion in his voice, an anger unlike what had been there before, now it was personal and not a feeling that he felt because he was expected by everyone to feel it.  
  
It was surprisingly nice to hear it come from him. But the words angered Irina as well and she quickly retorted, "What would you have done? Stayed and died, probably along with you and Sydney?"  
  
Jack stared at her, noticing that she had obviously been over the possibilities before. "No," he relented, understanding a little more why she had left him. "But I would have left some clue to explain."  
  
Irina just stared at him from her bed incredulously, "What do you mean?" Her voice was frustrated and higher pitched with scepticism of the idea of another way out.  
  
Realising that he didn't really have an answer that would satisfy, Jack veered off and started with something else. Typically, this only upset Irina more, her eyes firing up, ready for another swipe at him. "You couldn't have escaped? I mean, after KGB, you built yourself up to be the most powerful crime lord there is and no one even knew your face. You couldn't have escaped KGB and just stayed."  
  
She shook her head ferociously, "Jack, stop it, this talking without thinking will ruin you if you don't shut up right now." He looked at her dumbfounded, eliciting a small smile. "The only way I could have gotten out would have been to disappear and I figured that our daughter wouldn't have done well living in hiding." He looked about to interrupt so Irina quickly threw a question at him. "What do you mean 'just stayed'?" Underneath, she was scared of what he might say, not ready to hear his answer no matter what they were, but eager at the same time. On the outside, her head was dipped playfully and splinters of amusement were weaved into her voice as she appeared to tease him.  
  
Jack stared at her, a look of disturbance wandering over his features, his face showing more than it ever had. "I mean," stopping Jack thought about what he meant and his voice came out as he thought, amazed and shocked and dripping with disbelief. "I mean, why didn't you, couldn't you just stay with Sydney?"  
  
"No," she cut across him, quickly, not giving him a chance to stop her. "You mean why didn't I stay with you?"  
  
He bit his lower lip, almost as a reflex and it didn't go unseen by Irina, a grin falling over her face again. "Hmmmm?" She urged him to answer, willing the truth to come out even though inside she wasn't sure she wanted to hear it.  
  
He stared at her, the disbelief still on his face as he waited for his mind to come up with some quick retort. He shook his head as a 'no', but at the same time he had to explain, had to make her see what she had done. If only so that she might feel bad for what she did, Jack had to tell her that she was right and while the millions of possible speeches ran through his head, his mouth opened a single word slipped out. A rasp and hardly heard by Irina, but his lips moving enough for her to be sure, "Yes."  
  
Irina wasn't exactly shocked, she had, of course, expected him to eventually say that she was right, but she was slightly dumbfounded. Not at what he had said, but at what she was feeling because of it. Her usually cold and lifeless body was heating up; she could feel a warmth growing in her toes, in her fingertips and in the depths of her stomach.  
  
He quickly back tracked, starting again, "I mean, no, not really." But the damage was done. Straight away he realised that there was no going back, he'd said it, Irina was watching him like a fox and he'd just admitted something that he really shouldn't have, and to a woman he wasn't even supposed to like in the slightest.  
  
She eventually nodded and moved so that she was lying on her side on the edge of the bed, perfectly poised her arms up behind her head and her shirt riding up to expose a small portion of her taunt abdomen. Grinning she continued to watch him, the corner of her mouth high and her eyes shining with new found energy. Even now and then her lips would move as she swallowed or she tried to stop herself from letting the grin grow more.  
  
Eventually, Jack couldn't help but, for some reason, smile a little, interested that she was being so quiet after such an announcement, his lame attempt at a cover up being totally disregarded and Irina just staring at him, her grin growing and growing. "What?"  
  
She shrugged and looked at him, her lips broadening, an eyebrow rose slowly and she continued to shrug, not daring to open her mouth. Jack, of course, found this quiet amusing, the fact that he appeared to have finally found a way to shut the woman up for good just making his small smile grow. He shook his head a little and asked again, "Well...what?"  
  
She opened her mouth slightly, letting her upper teeth grab a firm hold of her lower lip as she still refused to speak, a look of absurdity appearing on her face while she just continued to swallow the many words of jest that were rising in her throat, all of which, probably would have shocked Jack to the core. He shook his head, his eyebrows rising and a patient look taking his face over.  
  
Pursing her lips before asking quickly, "How long are you going to sit there?"  
  
Adopting a serious look, Jack told her, quite matter of factly, all the while asking himself over and over why he was enjoying this. "As long as it takes."  
  
She grinning, nodding and opened her mouth again. "It's just funny, okay?" He shook his head, grinning almost. "I don't know," her accent was thick under her voice, the situation calling for humour and her exotic accent. "It's just, funny." She shrugged, honestly unable to explain why she was close to laughter.  
  
Jack just looked at her, doubt and amusement mingling to brighten his eyes, commenting slowly, he added, "Most people don't find me funny."  
  
Quickly, picking up the pace of whatever it was this particular conversation could be classed as, Irina remarked, "Then it stands to reason that I should do the opposite."  
  
Jack grinned out right, knowing what she was saying was true. She did always go opposite to the trend. He was tempted to play with her, get her to contradict, but hesitated, knowing that if she chose, she could turn it around. The humour of the situation eventually won through and he hit the ball back into her side of the court. "Most people think I'm cold as well."  
  
He couldn't be sure how she would handle it and still, in the back of his mind, he kept telling himself that he was only doing this because he wanted to work out how she worked so he could take her down. He was ready for a rhetorical question, a playful diversion, a shrug or a smart assed remark. Instead her voice, still mischievous and teasing but with a backing of truth, told him, "Therefore I'd have to find you warm." She grinned up at him, her head low, but her chin high, her breath, he noticed, stopping, as she waited for an answer.  
  
"Warm?" he asked, her breath starting again, sceptical and dripping with humour. He stood up and walked behind his chair, arms behind his back, hands together and his grin growing for an unknown reason when his back was turned. He was enjoying this...banter...more and more, he had no idea why, and while he knew this was probably a part of her extensive plan to take over the world, he figured that he could tease her until he was sick of it, the chances of her escaping very, very low.  
  
Turning back to face her, Jack leaned against the bench, making her look up at him from the bed where she remained lying. "How do you mean?" She grinned at him, lounging in what she hoped was a seductive way, tossing the idea of whether or not to clarify what 'warm' meant to her around in her head, Irina continued to survey him, intrigued that he looked so relaxed and as though he was enjoying himself. And with her of all people.  
  
"Well, you're just not cold." He grinned and she was inclined to wink, but stopped herself at the last moment. "You do care for people," licking her top lip as though she was thinking and adding another layer of accent to her words, she continued. "You just don't show it very well or very often."  
  
He nodded, the humour moving from his face for a second and something else surfacing but disappearing too quickly for Irina to put her finger on what it was. "Really?" he asked.  
  
She nodded, "I think so." She stretched again on the couch and her forehead creased a little as she stared at him, glimpsing little pieces of the puzzle, seeing that behind the humour was an eager hunger for knowledge about something. "But then, I'm no expert. I can't really say..." her voice trailed off as if she wanted him to explain it to her.  
  
Stupidly, or at least Jack thought it was a stupid thing to do, he expanded on her ideal of him, "I suppose I do...care," it came off his tongue all wrong and the amusement was quickly dissipating. "For some people," his eyes flickered to hers for a second before returning to the ground.  
  
She had to ask, her grin still there but only to cover up her fear, "For whom?"  
  
There you go! Review Please, oh please, oh please! 


	6. I do care

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Irina finds out it is Christmas day and is payed a visit by her daughter as she recalls her life as Laura.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: There you go, next part and very quickly! Must say, this one is being posted at the SD-6 boards before fanfiction.net ooooo, shocking news!! Read and Review, that's why I wrote this one! Chapter Six  
  
Jack smiled, throwing her for a minute as she had expected him to close up or at least turn away for a moment. Instead he answered almost immediately, "You seem to know me well enough, why don't you tell me."  
  
In any other situation, Irina would have thought this to be a flirtatious question but with Jack she decided that it couldn't have been. Instead, she began, quickly to think about what she could possibly say to that,; of course, she told him straight away, "You care for Sydney," but she knew he was going to push harder, for more until he got what he wanted.  
  
He grinned seeing her mind ticking over once she'd thrown him the obvious answer, the conversation was becoming faster easier and, along with that, a certain freeness appeared that Jack acknowledged, knowing that he was in a vulnerable state but not really caring. Nodding, he waited, wanting to give her time to come up with another answer. Seeing her still searching for something to say, he picked up the ball again, "You don't think I show it though?"  
  
Her eyes flickered from the bed she was lying on to his eyes and she looked startled for a moment before answering, "Not as well as you could, but considering," she chose to leave the circumstances she was referring to unmentioned, knowing it could upset him, "..You do show it a little." She watched for a moment, the back of her mind still working at how to finish off her answer. As an afterthought, she quietly added, her eyes flying back down to the floor, "She does know you love her though."  
  
Jack smiled, not at a joke, but for some other reason. Inside he felt a warmth flowing through his usually cold bones and he wished he could thank her, but decided not to, going back to his original question, temping fate, but his curiosity again getting the better of him. "Is Sydney the only one I care about then?"  
  
Irina looked back up, hearing the silent thank you Jack had been too fearful to voice and grinned, deciding to give him one more chance to back off before she stated what she thought was obvious and probably brought his entire life tumbling down. "I don't know. I can't see you caring about Kendall," Jack chuckled, the sound still foreign but welcome to both of them. "Though I might be wrong," Irina cast a quick look at him as he laughed. "You don't seem to care about Agent Vaughn," Jacked stopped laughing, interested in what she had to say. "But in time that will change."  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow, doubting her while at the same time knowing she was right. She took a deep breath and continued, "I'm running out of options here, do you have a housekeeper?" He grinned and waited but she didn't say anything else, still waiting for an answer and her mind ticking away ferociously looking for a way out.  
  
"I don't have a housekeeper. Is that all?" Jack was still pushing the question; Irina honestly hadn't thought he would pursue it a third time. But he had; three chances she'd given him to back down, three strikes, to not force her into this and now she had run out of people, out of little jokes to try to get him to veer away and there was one more person to discuss. Either Jack truly wanted to know what she thought he thought of her or he was a lot dumber than she remembered.  
  
She looked at him, scrutiny and confusion on her face as she tried to work out how to start, sitting up, she moved back on the bed until her back was once again against the wall, it's coolness making her shudder in one quick movement. Irina drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, not in a way that seemed defensive, but more as if she suddenly settled down for a good long think.  
  
Watching him intently she saw that there was an edge of interest to him or curiosity along with a deep fear she'd always known to be there but had never been able to find. Smiling slightly, she wondered why she was trying to get out of it. After all, he must already realise. Everyone else with a brain had, Sydney and she were both acutely aware of it and she was sure that Kendall had a rough idea as did Vaughn.  
  
"Well," she began leading into with logic, hoping to escape accusations of making it up if she started with facts. "The only other person I know you know is me." She paused giving Jack time to feel his stomach knot and his chin rise as his brow furrowed and his breath quickened as he waited for her to continue.  
  
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, "I don't really know," she lied through her teeth, unexpectedly scared of telling him. "I mean," she began again, not ready to give wanting to discuss it, "I can't be sure, but I can guess." Jack willed himself to grin, trying to keep the atmosphere light, but only managed a weak grimace that could have been a smile had he not looked so serious.  
  
"Go on," she'd taken too long to continue and Jack's voice almost made her jump as he forced her to continue. Looking at him, still not sure he wanted to hear what she had to say, she continued to hesitate. Taking this as a bad side, Jack broke the unbearable silence again, "What?"  
  
"I don't know," she paused before committing to her upcoming speech which was loosely gathering in her mind, the words linking in her head as she tried to read where Jack would interrupt her with his own words. "We,"" the word was so much more than just a word and she knew it and she knew he knew it but nonetheless she continued, repeating the word, liking the sound of it when it referred to them. "We're difficult to work out," Jack didn't budge, not showing a sign of agreeing or disagreeing just sitting there looking serious and slightly scared.  
  
"I mean, we have a lot of history," the word stung her tongue and she saw him move back a millimetre in withdrawal, still she pushed on, "We have a lot of differences," she'd wanted him to laugh, snort, smirk, anything at that, but he just stared, straight through her, his face slightly tighter than it had been as though he was hiding something, or perhaps he wanted to say something. "You have many reasons to hate me, and I, in return should hate you back. But I don't."  
  
She stopped, wanting desperately for him to say something, yell at her and damn her forever, anything but he continued to just watch her, eyes full of so many emotions she had no chance of counting them yet alone identifying them and working out why they were there. Knowing there was no way of turning back, but swearing she would have rather died than continue, Irina's eyes flickered around her looking for both a physical and a metaphysical way out. Finding none, she swallowed again and persisted.  
  
"I mean, I don't hate you, I can't," she repeated herself, pausing an extra second in search of a response, even pleading with him through her eyes for a single word to show he had an opinion, but nothing. "I know you tell everyone you hate me, that you want to see me dead," Irina realised this wasn't her plan that she'd veered off on a tangent and wasn't going back, sighing she just let it go, letting any word that came up her throat out, "That you think I'm in it for myself and that you think I'm here only to win more, to gain more. I know you tell people this. I figure you probably tell yourself this. But it isn't true." She swallowed before seeing that there was definite interest rising steadily in Jack's eyes and face.  
  
Hoping her mind didn't fail her, she continued quickly, her accent growing thicker and thicker and she let her heart gain more and more control over her words. For an instant she told herself she was being silly, letting him get so close, but then her voice took over again. "None of it's true, I'm not here for myself, you don't want to see me dead and you know you don't hate me." Jack watched on bemused as Irina started to speak from the heart, the spectacle rare and exotic, her hands moving to back up her words and her face showing she believed what she was saying.  
  
Irina saw his eyes light up and she wished she knew what he was thinking, of course she had no idea and so simply forged on, continuing with her speech knowing that when she'd finished he'd probably never look at her again, but not caring at all. "Whether of not you care for me, I don't know. I can't answer, I can tell you whether or not I care for you, I don't think you want to know though," she was ready to pause hoping his answer would tell her what to do. In her mind she would stop and wait and he would eventually tell her to shut up.  
  
But his voice came out almost as soon as hers had ended, dry and rasping, "Tell me."  
  
She was shocked for a moment, unsure if she'd heard right but when she saw the curiosity gone and replaced with something more akin to thirst, she answered, her voice small, hesitant but pure and honest, "I care for you Jack." His thirst changed, becoming ravenous and he wanted to speak but she talked first, her eyes on the floor, the truth out and Irina knew that Jack could use it against her, whether he believed her or not, he could take her down with those five little words.  
  
"Of course I do, if you hadn't noticed, I do," it was flooding, everything was building up behind her mouth which was opening and shutting without any noise coming out, her mind unsure of where to go from there. And then she realised, she'd already told him, she'd already shown him her vulnerability, why not tell him more, what more damage could she do? And in that moment of weakness she let it all out, "I would die for you, go to the moon and back, I don't know why, no one knows why people do those kind of things, it's just a matter of who for."  
  
It was all out, everything; there was nothing left to tell and she wanted to collapse in a heap and just grin. The drama over, the fun to come. Of course this wasn't the case for Jack who wasn't quite ready for the conversation to end. Irina was smiling a little, holding back the grins and fits of laughter that she wanted to let ring out.  
  
Seeing she wasn't about to say anything Jack forced her, asking a question and his face demanding an answer despite the small smile playing at his lips. "That wasn't the question. Do you think I care for you?" Even off his tongue just the idea was a bitter sweet mixture of inquisitiveness, fire, fear and contempt, either for himself or for her, or even perhaps both, no one knew.  
  
Still, he had to know and he watched as her face turned serious again and she answered, quietly and in a manner that he could have called seductive or persuasive, "I'm not sure. There's a spark, a fire, but I don't know," she sounded intrigued, "What do you think?" She made it sound like it were an opinion., as though he might say yes and she could still say no and this made him hesitate for a second before answering, honestly and plainly.  
  
Reviews please, I think this is my best chapter for in a while, and I wanna know what you all think. Remember, keep reviewing, I'll keep updating this quickly. 


	7. Hypothetically

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Irina finds out it is Christmas day and is payed a visit by her daughter as she recalls her life as Laura.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: There you go, next part and very quickly! Must say, this one is being posted at the SD-6 boards before fanfiction.net ooooo, shocking news!! Read and Review, that's why I wrote this one!  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
He looked at her, knowing he was walking steadily into a trap of sorts, but at that moment in time, he felt like he knew her, like he could almost trust her and thus like he could let his guard down when she was the only one there. Of course, the minute the thought had passed through his mind, he filed it away in the 'Look here Jack, don't do it again because it's stupid' file in his mind and tried, quite unsuccessfully to gain some control over the situation.  
  
Seeing her waiting for his answer, he decided to turn the tides against her as quickly as he could, switching from offence to defence in the hope that he could manoeuvre around her and attack from behind her. At the same time her vowed to just keep throwing it back at her, anything she wanted him to catch, she would do the same. Waiting for her to tell him rather than giving up and just telling her what he thought, "I think I want to know what you think."  
  
She grinned, she could see she was throwing him with her honesty and quick tongue, when she'd told him she cared she'd noticed it and now it was surfacing, a passion, an eagerness for this quick witted banter, for equal playing terms where they could just talk back and forth for ever, arguing and passionately agreeing on everything and anything. Squinting as she thought, she answered almost immediately, his honest expression giving her the valour to speak blatantly, "I think you're different, I can't see you ever caring fully about anyone other than Sydney, but that's just part of the face you put on every morning, and I can see through that." He looked at her, fascinated in where she was headed. "I mean, I really don't think you'd die for me."  
  
He cut across her, having known she would say it eventually and having prepared to answer, wanting to shock, wanting to aggravate but wanting to see how she reacted most of all, "Ah, but I would."  
  
Irina looked at him for a second, her face the perfect picture of shock, her shoulders down, her brows knitted together and her head moving back on her neck as she stared at him, wondering what had compelled him to say something so precise. She knew straight away that it hadn't been the spur of the moment and that it had been planned and carefully thrown in and quickly she recovered, knowing he was trying to beat her, to tease her until she lost her train of thought and failed. Whether this was because he was getting scared of where the conversation was going or because he was enjoying it, she couldn't be sure but something in her stomach told it was the latter.  
  
"You would, would you?" she waited for him to say something else smart, but looking up she realised he was no longer playing at interrupting her, instead measuring her, trying to see where she was standing in the game. "Hmmm...Not surprising really, considering..." she let it trail off, the end of the sentence she knew, but ignored, while she tried to work out what Jack would think of it. Unluckily, he seemed to have withdrawn, perhaps because he had thought the same thing about the end of the sentence and was suddenly feeling afraid.  
  
Typically, this was proven wrong when he started again, "You still haven't answered the question."  
  
She cut across him, "And why should I, you should know the answer and if you don't, and that seems to be the case, then I don't see why I should have to try and answer."  
  
He laughed, harsh and quick, stopping her from continuing, "You don't know the answer, do you?"  
  
The pace quickened as she threw the words back at him, "The only reason I don't know is because you won't let me know."  
  
A slight pause, Jack wanting her to say something, but Irina done, waiting, her breath coming quickly as the adrenaline ran through her veins as if she were on a mission. Looking at her, suspicion covering his face, he started again, trying to jolt her but only shocking himself, "And what if I was to tell you that I did? Would you use it against me? Try to take me down with it? Hmmm? Tell everyone who walked past your cell that you'd forced emotion out of the cold Jack Bristow? What would you do?"  
  
She watched him, a look of incredulity on her face as he revealed what she'd suspected while only giving her more reason to push, he may as well have told her that he cared about her, by saying what he'd said he only showed his fears along with his weaknesses and for a second she felt a tinge of guilt that anyone should ever feel that revealing such things was dangerous, but she couldn't lose, what would that show. So she kept going, wanting to here him admit it. "What would you like me to do if you told me?"  
  
He made no move to respond so she pushed harder; knowing to mention the word was suicide but doing it just to see, just to wonder what he might do in return. "I mean, what would you want me to do if you told me you loved me?"  
  
He must have stared at her for an eternity, he was possibly more shocked than she was, his eyes knowing that she might have been right in some upside down, wrong kind of way, but also sure that she was looking back at him from her place on the bed with an unusual panic written across her face, still, there was no harm in continuing, she was never going to escape and never going to be stupid enough to talk about it. And, somewhere inside, Jack was having fun., almost liking this feeling.  
  
"What would I want you to do?" He repeated the question and, seeing her nodding dumbly, he realised with great happiness that he had recovered first and that he was in the lead. "I don't know," the words came out slow and slippery as he searched for something to say, "I suppose, I'd want you to return the sentiment. Seeing her grin, he became conscience of the fact of what she might think he was admitting and quickly added, "Hypothetically speaking of course."  
  
Irina smiled, he was in way too deep; he just didn't know it, yet. An hour before hand, he'd walked into the room and sat down on the other side of the glass, all closed and quiet and guarded and now, her grin grew, he was so close to admitting things he hadn't even dreamt about admitting to himself before that day that she could feel the words hanging in the air, just waiting to be spoken. "Hypothetically, that would make you happy?"  
  
He nodded, seeing the trap a second too late and his eyes going wide as she pounced, her words quick and with the usual accent that he'd never tell anyone he found endearing. "So all you want is for me, hypothetically, to tell you that I love you, and then, hypothetically, you'd be fine." She was smiling serenely, trying to get him to take the bait, giving him the hints and still abiding by his invisible rule of hypotheticals. But still, she wanted, deep down, for some unknown and misunderstood reason, for him to say what he was thinking instead of acting so guarded.  
  
Seeing her looking at him with a hint of desire in her eyes, Jack's head dropped and he realised how far he'd gone wrong. Irina watched as he closed up and with a last stab of honesty, of hope she became deadly serious and told him, her voice clear and low, and with obvious reason behind it, "It's all hypothetical Jack, you can say what you want." He still didn't look up and she tilted her head, her eyes turning sad as she realised what she'd turned him into. A lonely old man, so closed that no one could pry him open and so defensive that he was always attacking. Turning away, she looked down at her own hands, a whisper that she didn't really expect him to hear, "I'm sorry, Jack." A hushed few words that she just wanted to say before he left, even if he didn't hear and didn't care.  
  
"Why do you do that?" his voice was back to its normal volume as his head shot up but it was inquisitive and passionate and Irina wanted to answer, but couldn't, having no idea what he was talking about. Somehow sensing she didn't understand, Jack elaborated, "I mean, why say things when you think no one will hear them?"  
  
Irina just shrugged, not particularly interested in his line of questioning until he added, "I've seen you crying when no one was around, when you didn't think you were being watched and I've always wondered why you would do that if you were only pretending." Looking up she was totally shocked, again, he was looking for a way to accept her, to make her a good guy and this time she didn't waist time, she didn't just look around and play with him, she answered truthfully.  
  
"Because I'm not pretending. It's all real," Jack saw her voice as being no different than the one she usually used, but it was how simple her words were that forced him to see she was telling the truth.  
  
Carefully, not wanting to put a foot wrong, he continued, "What else can you answer to without lying?" He wanted to talk, he knew it, she knew it, but neither would admit it, she'd claim she was humouring him; he'd say he was trying to get into her head, but they both knew.  
  
"Anything you want to ask," she gave him the leeway he needed and waited, this moment crucial as he was finally trying to trust her and not just play with her mind.  
  
"Hypothetically," they both looked up and, catching the other's eye, grinned at each other, in spite of how serious everything else was, but quickly looking down as both Irina and Jack knew that if they continued to grin they'd have to realise that it wasn't hypothetical at all. "If I were to tell you that I still loved you," his voice disappeared, but he quickly resurrected it as he heard footsteps down the hall, heading their way. "What would you do?"  
  
She stared at him, knowing what he was asking, and knowing, full well, what her answer was, but too scared to tell him, she hesitated.  
  
Sydney ran down the steps and through the door, a scarf trailing behind her from her neck. It was green and read, her jeans sticking to her legs from the cold and ice that had come with winter, a large sweater bulging out and keeping her warm. She nodded to the guard and he smiled, "You're here about the prisoner?" Sydney nodded, over enthusiastically, "Okay, is everything up top ready?" Sydney nodded again and the guard took off a key card that was hanging from his neck. "Give it back to me on the way out," he winked at her and Sydney smiled despite the fact that the man must have been thirty years older than her.  
  
Ducking her head, she forced herself to walk on the way down to the cell, approaching, she heard voices, her mother's. For a second, she wondered whether Irina had started to talk to herself, but then a familiar, masculine voice that she straight away identified as her father's filtered through from around the corner and her mouth dropped open.  
  
Jack's voice came through just loud enough for her to hear, "I've seen you crying when no one was around, when you didn't think you were being watched and I've always wondered why you would do that if you were only pretending." Her mouth gaped wider as she listened to the a few more words, but then, realising she was spying on her parents, she pulled herself together, still half listening but trying to block the words from her mind, she continued to walk down the corridor, her mouth closed and her hands in her hair as she tried to fix it.  
  
Turning the corner she saw her father sitting in the chair on the other side of the window and she heard him speak, slowly and unlike she'd ever heard, "Hypothetically," a pause as he glanced up, a foreign smile passing over his lips before they returned to normal, "If I were to tell you that I loved you. What would you do?" She stopped, wanting desperate to here Irina's answer, knowing that Jack wanted to too. Too scared to move, she waited and waited, her muscles clenched as she tried not to breath in case her father saw the movement.  
  
Badaaaa!!! Review please, I'm really liking where this is headed and I'm about to get rid of the glass!! Please tell me what you think, thanks for the three reviews, you guys are quick. 


	8. Good Behaviour

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Irina finds out it is Christmas day and is payed a visit by her daughter as she recalls her life as Laura.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: I went out today and saw Lord of the Rings and that was an 8 hour thing what with lunch and shopping and tomorrow I have to be up at 5 to go fishing, so be very impressed that I am up at 11pm writing the notes for ALL FOUR STORIES! But hey I love it and I love it because I love all of the reviews I get. I was upset this morning because there were none there, but that was cause the site broke, but when I got back from the movies, there were heaps, so thank you, I love them and look how hard they make me work. Be warned, none of these have been proofed because I'm way too tired, so any major problems, I apologise in advance. Enjoy them and if you don't know how to get more you're obviously brain dead: reviews!!!!  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
But he did, his head turned quickly and surely and at the same time all three faces fell as they saw what had happened. Irina was ready to hear it, Jack had, though now he wouldn't admit it, been ready to say it and Sydney had just wanted to be sure of what she was already quite positive of. But Jack saw Sydney, Irina saw Jack see Sydney and Sydney saw that she wasn't going to bring the moment back. Instead, she pretended she hadn't heard a thing and started to walk forward.  
  
God knew why her dad was there, but it only made what she'd organised better, not to mention the fact that the pair weren't screaming at each other. Stopping in front of him, she spread her arms, "Hi dad," he leaned in awkwardly and kissed her lightly on the cheek making her feel warm and giddy inside and acknowledging that it was her mother's work that had melted him enough to make him do such a thing. Leaning back, she said, "Merry Christmas."  
  
He smiled, looking at Irina out of the corner of his eye to find her watching them with interest. Employing a happy face, Jack replied, if only to spite her, "You too." Then seeing Irina open her mouth, Jack knew what she was about to say and beat her, "I saw you talking to your mother earlier today and I came down to talk to her."  
  
Sydney nodded, knowing full well in her mind what she believed they'd been talking about. She smiled, "I have good news," Irina's eyes lit up, she knew this was going to be good news to her while Jack's forehead furrowed, Sydney avoiding his gaze. "And," she added quickly, "While I know you won't agree with me, I'm going ahead with it."  
  
Jack just raised an eyebrow, wondering where she was going, "What are you talking about." At this stage, Irina got up and walked over to the window, leaning against the bench and her head tilting as she waited for an answer.  
  
Sydney hesitated, not sure she could trust her father with the kind of thing she'd planned, "I've gotten you out for the night."  
  
Jack looked at her, shocked, angered but scared most of all, knowing he was about to be drawn into a night with both of them. "What do you mean? She'd like the CIA's most wanted and their going to let her out again?"  
  
Irina looked at him, mock hurt in her eyes, but underneath revealing the fact that underneath he was scared, he just wasn't telling her in words, but she could tell, he was silently terrified at the idea of spending the night with them. Sydney took more offence to his words and defended her valiantly, "Hey, she's saved both our lives more than once and she's only been let out to do the CIA's dirty work," Jack stared at her, knowing she was right, but not prepared to say that.  
  
"How exactly do you plan on getting away with this?" Jack hadn't even dreamt that she would actually have clearance for this kind of an operation and Irina was looking at her, obviously interested in how she was going to do this as well.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Sydney answered, "I have full clearance. On account of her good behaviour," both parents looked at he, knowing there was more and she explained as she looked down and smirked, "And the fact that I once again threatened to quit, we can go anywhere in LA as long as I carry a gun." Irina smirked shocked that her daughter would be so bold as to risk her job just to get her outside for a night.  
  
Jack just looked uncomfortable and ready to leave, but Sydney added, "And, as you're here, dad," she said the word loudly, making sure he understood the responsibility he held, "I think we'd both like you to join us," Irina rolled her eyes but didn't dispute it.  
  
"I really can't..." Jack let his voice trail off and stood up, making to leave.  
  
"Please," Sydney knew she was faking it, and thought it wouldn't work, but surprisingly, he turned back guiltily and glared at her and Irina, watching Sydney hold the expression that could have been fake, but then could have been real as well and listened as she continued, "I haven't spent Christmas with you since I was a little girl."  
  
Irina's voice was quick, "Really," she grinned as they both turned to her, Jack with a glare and Sydney with a grin as she saw her mother playing Jack into the trap of having to come tonight, "That's not very good." She paused, "I can't imagine you turned her down again..."  
  
He took a deep breath and looked at Sydney and then at Irina and then back, "Okay, but for the record, I don't think this is a good idea." He looked at his watch; it was just ticking by six. "What time does she have to be back?"  
  
Sydney grinned, "One!"  
  
Irina smiled at Sydney before turning back to Jack, "Seven wonderful hours together."  
  
Jack just looked back with disdain on his face, but underneath still scared and at the same time, almost looking forward to it, "I can't wait." The sarcasm was dripping and Irina just rolled her eyes as Sydney walked over to the glass, electric sliding doors that kept her mother from her and let her out.  
  
Grinning she stepped out and repressed the urge to whoop for joy at being out again. Calming down, she couldn't help but keep the smile on her face, "So, what are we going to do?"  
  
Sydney smiled; "Leave here," Irina smiled again, her face turning a little sad as Sydney moved out in front of her. She followed her winking at the guard who just looked at her, a little astonished that she'd been given this kind of freedom. The stairs were steep and slim but she made her way up them with ease, following Sydney out into the biting winter air, hearing Jack, dragging his feet behind them both. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around her body, the thin jacket she always wore not stopping the chills.  
  
Sydney just looked at her and nodded, "I have an extra jacket and sweater around the corner."  
  
Irina looked at her, a little taken aback that she had thought of something so trivial but nodded her thanks and followed her around and into a tiny alley way. Jack waited near the road for them. They emerged, Irina with her hair still out but now cascading over a relatively tight black and red sweater along with a tight leather jacket which she hastily tied tightly around her when the winds hit again.  
  
Seeing Jack looking her over, she grinned and spoke, quite matter of factually, "Merry Christmas Jack," she smiled at him and Sydney looked at him, hope in her eyes as he just stared at her mother, shocked and impatient to begin the night in the hope of it ending sooner. Or so he told himself.  
  
He grunted and looked at them both, so alike and yet so different, or at least he hoped. Irina just watched him, seeing that he was confused now. She ignored him and grabbed her daughter's hand in a desperate bid to show her how badly she wanted to say thank you. Sydney just stared at the joined hands and grinned at her, looking up and opening her mouth to speak. But Irina cut her off, explaining the movement, "Thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me."  
  
Jack stood behind them, staring, scared, confused, upset and secretly excited and resorted to the lowest forms of bickering; sarcasm and low shots. Hearing Irina's words, he couldn't help but say what he was thinking, "Yeah, I mean, giving her the perfect chance to kill us both and then go to Mexico must mean a lot to her."  
  
She turned and what he'd hoped would be a glare was simply and playful smile as she recognised another bout of playful fighting coming. She knew what kind of conversation lay at the end of it and, while he had no idea why she was grinning, he figured it was worth continuing if only to remain in Sydney's eyes as someone completely against Irina, when, inside, he wasn't totally sure. I mean, how could he have been, after all that he had just admitted in with her a few minutes before.  
  
Sydney was the one who glared at him, choosing to make them aware of her position before they even started, "Look, if the two of you are only going to fight, there isn't much use in doing this at all."  
  
Jack couldn't help it, his sarcasm was his last defense and he was not about to drop it, "Has it occurred to you that your mother enjoys fighting?"  
  
Sydney glared at him again, unexpected was his comeback that she had no idea what to say in return and was only rescued when her mother jumped in, not with a quick retort, but by beginning to walk, down the street and left, admiring the trees, dressed up in their Christmas lights and the laughter and cheer that echoed into every nook and cranny as every house was filled with people celebrating the season.  
  
They walked past a house covered in lights and smiled, Sydney pointing out bits and pieces as the light slowly sank away. They turned left and right, Sydney, knowingly leading her parents into an area where shops were still open and many families would be dining together. Jack walked behind, sulking, if Irina hadn't known better and dropping another quick barb every time there was room in the conversation for one.  
  
Sydney ignored him and Irina just continued to grin, knowing he was only doing it to hide, she wasn't sure what he was hiding, but she figured it would come to light as dusk drew to an end. They'd walked over three kilometers, admiring the houses, Irina commenting on things she hadn't noticed before and speaking to Sydney about her school work, asking questions and listening to answers just as a real mother did. Sydney spent the entire time grinning like an idiot, unable to feel bad even when her father said something entirely spiteful as the fact that her mother, while never a university professor, was well read, and probably well written.  
  
Jack looked on with disgust and interest as they spoke of every writer, from Shakespeare to Dickens to Dahl, each finding with some shock that they had many tastes the same and several different.  
  
As they entered the district best known to Sydney for it's incredible food and dining, Jack sighed heavily, the action only causing both Irina and Sydney to laugh and turn to him, a slight sour look on Sydney's face before continuing past the many closed restaurants with the few open ones scattered between.  
  
Stopping suddenly, Sydney turned with her mother to face Jack on the pavement. For a moment, he suspected an ambush but then Sydney spoke, directing her words to both of them, "Where do we want to eat? My shout."  
  
Irina grinned, shaking her head, "Do you know how long it is since my last good meal?" Sydney smiled back which Jack just scowled, "Quite a while. You pick, I trust your taste."  
  
Sydney smiled, her mother's trust somehow important, even if it was only over where to eat and started walking again, past the closed restaurants, ignoring anywhere, big and full of people and almost walking past the little shop with few customers and fewer lights. Glancing up, Sydney expected to be moving off any second, but the sign above the tiny shop stopped her and she had to smile.  
  
"Joeys Pizza".  
  
Well, okay, I went out and came home and my back hurts and my neck hurts and my fingers and I haven't watched TV in days, argggg, But I love it so review please. 


	9. Spaghetti Bolognese

Title: No gift, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe  
  
Author: Aeryn or Doona or Aeria or Donna Whelan if you're my English teacher in which case you've just discovered I know how to write more than half an essay and when I get to school I'm doomed. Oh god, how bad would that be?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine,  
  
Summary: Um, well I don't know....I'm just the writer, how am I supposed to know?  
  
Notes: Well, here's some more, didn't update yesterday cause I was buggered and had two fresh hook holes in my right hand from a Banjo Shark who got made when I caught him and decided to throw the hook he had in his mouth at me. We threw him back anyway and he lived happily ever after. ( Ouch, anyway, reviews please, it is what I do this for. How sad.  
  
Chapter nine  
  
Jack's eyes widened and he said, again with his newly adopted sarcasm, "Oh god no." Sydney just glared at him, a few ideas of why he was behaving in such a way surfacing in her mind, but still, she felt he was acting completely irrationally.  
  
Irina just looked at both of them, confused, "What? You don't like Italian?' Her question was sincere but she saw Jack withdraw a tiny amount at her comment. Probably because of the many, romantic meals that they'd eaten, most of them Italian, and in response to what he considered a biting question he chose to once again scowl at her, even if it was obviously superficially.  
  
Sydney answered, seeing her father wasn't going to, "No, it's Vaughn's call sign," Her mother nodded, showing she understood but continued to listen as they moved inside, through the glass doors and were seated by a Italian boy of perhaps sixteen. "Whenever we have to meet, he calls the house and that's all he says. And then I have to go and meet him at whatever meeting place we agreed to last time we met."  
  
"Mmmm," her mother was either the perfect actress, Sydney decided, or truly was interested. And she chose to believe in the second one, "Where is it you meet?" Her father threw them both a warning glance, his opinion on where the discussion was heading clear and for the first time they had left, Irina dropped her head and shook it, saying quietly as the menus were set down in front of them. "I'm sorry. Don't worry about it."  
  
Sydney just stared at her, shocked, "No," she looked to her father who continued to obtain the look of disgust, "You can know. If dad has a problem he can say it outright." Jack made no move to respond, just sitting there, flicking through the menu before placing it in front of him and placing his hands on the table. "Right, then I believe I can tell you."  
  
Irina shook her head again, "No, he's right," Jack's head shot up but he covered his bemused thoughts with an expression of hate quick enough to deceive both his daughter and his wife. "You don't have to tell me." Jack had to wonder why Irina hadn't simply allowed Sydney to tell her and then he remembered the time around an hour before hand when he had been trusting her. When he had felt as though he weren't himself and he wondered if that version of himself had been right to trust the woman in front of him.  
  
"Yes, but I want to," Sydney shook her head, "You're my mother and while I agree with dad that considering what he knows of you, I shouldn't be with in a kilometre of anything to do with you. You are my mother and I want to tell you. We meet in an old warehouse, most of the time," her father's defiance only made her want to be more specific. "Sometimes at the CIA, but not often, a few times at restaurants, on opposite sides on our cell phones. " Irina nodded as Sydney's feelings for Vaughn became more obvious than they'd been the day before, she understood the world of spies and she knew what it was to feel attracted to a man you couldn't have, ever, not properly.  
  
Sydney continued, "Every now and then we go somewhere new, somewhere else, once at a pier," she stopped as the memories of that night came back and her father shook his head, showing he truly felt she as being stupid for saying these things. "Sometimes at a mobile blood bank...where ever the CIA tells us to meet." She smiled, sadly, and took the time to look around at where they were.  
  
The restaurant was small, only one other family was there, a mother and father with their two young girls and they were keeping to themselves in the corner, smiling and laughing at each other, wearing party hats and half way through their meal. Sydney saw the young couple, around as old as she was, holding hands beneath the table and instantly wondered if her father had ever been capable of such a gesture.  
  
The walls were a pleasant cream with red borders and a deep mahogany coloured roof. The tables and chairs were mahogany as well, the cushions cream and soft along with the soft carpet under their feet. A noisy clutter, muffled by the walls echoed out of the kitchen which was behind the door they'd seen when they had first entered. Sydney glanced back to the table, her father looked uncomfortable and his head was on a difficult angle so that the flowers in the centre of the table obscured Irina's view of him. She, on the other hand, was ignoring him, being mature, in Sydney's mind and brave in her own, and looking through the menu, silently very happy to finally be able to choose her own meal.  
  
Looking back around, Sydney opened her own menu and flipped through the pages, there wasn't an incredible to choose from and the wine list was small, but it just gave the place more of a homely feel and, taking her time, she picked out a Caesar Salad and the Joey's Special Pasta, which she opted for only because of the name, hopefully it would taste good too.  
  
The young boy appeared at the table as if form no where and grinned, a thick Italian accent escaped his lips, "Merry Christmas, are you ready to order?"  
  
Sydney looked up and nodded, "I am." The boy grinned at her, obviously taken by her beauty as most teen boys would be, "Everyone else," they both nodded, one enthusiastically and the other as though he was agreeing to his own funeral. They went on to order, Irina grabbing a Caesar Salad as well and Lasagne and Jack getting a Black Bean Salad and Spaghetti Bolognese, despite the fact that he remembered, quite acutely, as did Irina going by the look she threw him after he'd ordered, the instance about a year before she left which involved the meal.  
  
It had been late at night, Sydney had been up early and they'd gone to the zoo and now she was conked out, upstairs in bed, sound asleep. She hadn't eaten dinner as she'd spent the entire day eating lollies and chips and ice cream, but both Laura and Jack had been starving by the time they'd gotten home, calmed Sydney down enough to get her tired and put her to bed. So Laura had whipped up Spaghetti Bolognese, quickly and in thirty minutes they were sitting across the table from each other, eating quickly and throwing secret grins at each other.  
  
Of course, when Jack unknowingly ended up with a tiny piece of sauce on his face it had been Laura duty to kiss it off and twenty minutes later they'd been on the couch, lip locked together and Jack's shirt forgotten on the floor, her buttons were also forgotten, two of them had flown off at dangerous speeds having broken loose from the green fabric and the rest had realised that unless they undid themselves they too would join the other buttons on the floor. Irina had been the one to first see reason and as Jack's lips made for her neck, a hand cradling her cheek, she spoke, "What about Sydney?"  
  
Jack's only reply had been, "We blame the Spaghetti." And then his lips had silenced her again.  
  
Irina watched Jack across the table, smiling in spite of her resolve to pay him no attention for the evening, as he ducked from her view behind the flowers. She had to wonder why he had been so provocative to order such a meal, but then, perhaps he had forgotten. He hadn't of course, but when Irina couldn't work something out, and that was never until she had turned herself into the CIA, she chose a simply answer and left it be.  
  
The young man left and Sydney turned to her mother, wanting to talk to her while she had the chance, but also, partially to see her father's reactions and then also to spite him, his behaviour for the beginning of the night making her wish she hadn't been so stupid to invite him in the first place. "Has America changed much since you left?"  
  
It was the most uncontroversial question she could think of, anything else would have either been completely boring or involved bringing up the cell or her mother's past life in detail, this way, Sydney hoped, her mother could, if she wanted, forget about everything that existed outside the room. Irina just smiled and answered , relaxing a little, but still studying Jack, a tiny worm of anger and regret wriggling in her stomach as she saw him trying to cover something up, his anger growing for both himself and her at the same rate. "Not much, I was here a year ago."  
  
Sydney smiled, hoping her dad would take this answer as a good thing as Irina had quite openly given out information about her travels that the CIA wanted. For the rest of the meal, the conversation, only ever between Sydney and her mother, was generally normal, a little awkward to begin with but by the time the waiter arrived for desert and Sydney ordered a tiramisu for each of them, they were laughing and having a good time, Jack left forgotten in the corner as he continued to scowl. They ended up back on the topic of books, debating and arguing their individual points, the discussion of a character's true intent bringing new ideals of her mother to light for a Sydney and delightful morsels of information regarding Sydney to her mother's mind.  
  
Sydney eventually stopped talk and looking at her watch and she realised that they had spent over two hours in the restaurant and Jack hadn't spoken another word since they'd walked in. She wondered why he had given up on the sarcasm but decided not to comment, joining her mother in her resolve to ignore him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Irina and Sydney comfortable while Jack just wondered when he'd be able to leave.  
  
Irina broke it, "I have to thank you again Sydney. This truly is wonderful." It as the kind of fluent, flattering thing Jack had thought she would use to reel in enemies, but her own daughter, he hadn't thought so and inside he was quietly seething, feeling his heart race with passion and anger, not all towards her. He was sweating and felt as though any minute now his blood would boil. Of course it eventually did.  
  
Sydney's answer was simple, non committing and could have been considered typical for anyone in the same situation; "My pleasure, I'm having fun." She smiled at her mother and was about to continue when a movement from where Jack was sitting made her pause. He stood up, quickly, in a sharp sort of manner, but not doing anything to attract attention from the other tables, three of which, at this point were full. He swallowed and looked about to say something before sighing and walking out, his footsteps measured and careful, the anger and the storm carefully contained.  
  
Once he'd left, Sydney just looked at Irina, feeling, for some reason, embarrassed and shrugged, ready to race out after him, she started to stand. "No," Irina stopped her with a warm hand on he arm, "Let me go." Sydney wasn't sure, and not because she thought her mother was going to run, but because she had a feeling they might end up trying to kill each other. But then, remembering what she'd interrupted at the cell, she sat back down and nodded.  
  
Read and review, I'm off to write escape now and then, if I'm still awake, True Lies. Yes, be happy, they are coming along and I have set ups coming along in every single one, except for, of course, Wish List which is about to end. ( Anyways, review if you want more and I'd like to know if you want me to keep this going or just finish it once I think I can fix everything up. 


	10. Alleyway

Title: No gift, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe  
  
Author: Aeryn or Doona or Aeria or Donna Whelan if you're my English teacher in which case you've just discovered I know how to write more than half an essay and when I get to school I'm doomed. Oh god, how bad would that be?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine,  
  
Summary: Um, well I don't know....I'm just the writer, how am I supposed to know?  
  
Notes: Arggg, that one was hard to write. Hope you like it, read and review!  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
Irina looked at Sydney thankfully for a brief moment before rushing outside into the freezing cold, there was harsh wind blowing and she would just make out Jack's silhouette as he turned a corner and headed down the alley beside the café. She sighed heavily, wondering if the man would ever get a clue and stop being so damn cold. She ran with her head down, her heart set on catching up with Jack and trying to talk some sense into him. To convince him to come back and finish the meal.  
  
Sydney remained seated in the restaurant for about twenty seconds before she realised that there was still a very good chance of an argument occurring and deciding she should be there, just in case. She stood up and straight away the young boy appeared, she smiled at him and explained, "I'll be right back. I just have to step outside," the boy looked at her suspiciously so she handed him her bag, "Here, I'll leave this here so that I have to come back." The boy grinned and nodded, watching as she left out the door and hastily turned left.  
  
Irina turned down the alleyway and called out to him, "Jack," he made no move to stop, "Jack, wait." The alley was deserted, a few boxes littered the narrow street and there was the scuffle of rats' feet. To the right there was loud Latin music ringing out and to the left the soft music of the restaurant she'd just been in could also be faintly heard. There was a light above them and it cast awkward shadows everywhere, giving people's faces the mysterious look that murderers always had in films. She ran a little faster, catching up to him and asking again as she slowed to a walk a foot behind him. "Jack, stop." His steady stride didn't falter, "Please."  
  
He had his head down and he was storming along, completely angry and not paying any attention to Irina until she forced him to with a strong and almost painful hand on his upper arm. He tried to pull away but she only tugged harder. To be honest, he was ready to hit her, but he decided not to, instead he just turned around and advanced forcing her back into the wall and almost scaring her away. "What is it?" Each word had a power to itself and the coldness exposed itself as a simple façade to mask the anger.  
  
"This isn't being fair on Sydney," it was what she had planned to say, of course, it didn't quite work. "You should at least stay." He glared at her and she quickly dropped her hand. He still didn't say anything so she asked, her voice rising with her own anger at his silence and disregard for his own daughter, "What exactly is the matter?" he raised an eyebrow, one of his brown eyes catching the light and the fire within flashed into visibility for Irina. "I've done nothing wrong this evening, I have, as far as I can tell, dodged all discussion points that have the slightest to do with her work and I have not said a word wrong to you."  
  
He cut across her smoothly, his voice the opposite to her, low and soft, "You're manipulating her." He said it as though it were a fact, proven and believed as if it were a principle of life.  
  
Irina glared at him, "What?"  
  
He nodded, his voice still low, stings of danger edging into it, "You heard me, you're playing her into your hands. Sharing her tastes, laughing with her, joking, talking like you really were her mother."  
  
It was Irina's turn to cut across, "I am her real mother." Jack went back to glaring at her, his glare not cold but hot and passion filled. "And you will respect that."  
  
He scoffed, "I still stand by the fact that you are manipulating her into playing a pawn in one of your little games. You're going to make her fall in love with you, her mother, come back from the dead to talk about books and poetry and stupid little things and then you're going to use her. It's unbelievable." It was truly as though there was no other possible motive for Irina's talk with Sydney.  
  
For a moment Irina felt bad that he should have to live with such a narrow mind, but she was soon raging inside that he should judge her so quickly, especially in regards to Sydney. A drop of water hit her nose and she glanced up before quickly looking back down. Now her voice turned low, coming out smooth as silk but with invisible snags and dangers, "It never occurred to you that I might be spending time with her for some other reason?"  
  
He glared at her harder, knowing for her to ask a question, it could only mean that she was about to trap him. He had no choice and frankly he didn't give a damn if she took a swipe at him because right then, at that moment, the passion was so strong, he'd fight her forever. "No, you could never have any other motive than to attack and use."  
  
It was harsh and Irina felt the kick in her stomach a second before it actually occurred; her mind knowing it was about to come and anticipating it enough to ignore the lasting pain. "What if I am? What if I'm doing it for some reason less sinister?"  
  
"Then I was wrong about you," Jack bit his lip, he'd taken the bait and he'd trapped himself, he knew that it wasn't just that there was a chance that she was doing all of this for an ulterior motive, but that there was a chance of Sydney getting hurt and it scared him. He knew his judgement had always been wrong when it came o the woman before him, but it didn't matter,. He was not going to let her chase him down an alleyway and force him to give in.  
  
"You're wrong about me then," another droplet of water landed on her cheek and another, it was starting to rain, Irina saw tiny droplets in the grey across from her and one on jack's forehead. "I was doing it because I want to know her, as unlikely as it may seem, I've missed her for the last twenty years and while I know it is impossible, I'm trying to catch up on lost time." Her voice was back to normal with a hint of regret in her words, but still they contained a ting.  
  
Seeing she was leading him down a path he especially didn't want to travel, he changed the subject, ignoring the increasingly heavy rainfall. "You can't just act like nothing ever happened?"  
  
"Why not? You do?" she covered her mouth in an instant, shocked at how stupid she had been, how damn easily he could see through that statement. He just looked at her, suspicious and confused as he tried to work out what she meant.  
  
After a few second's thoughts, Jack still looked blank, he reached a hand up to wipe the water from his face, his sleaves drenched and his hair getting messed up by the down poor. As his hand moved away though, Irina saw him cock his head to the side and realisation dawn on his face. "Hang on," he waved a hand in the air, both shocked and cautious of her, "Are you upset that I'm ignoring our marriage?"  
  
Irina glared at him before quickly trying to resurrect her normal look of smugness. "No, I'm simply saying that," then she realised she had no idea why she'd said it. Perhaps he was right. She shook her head, her now wet hair spraying both of them with more water.  
  
"Why would that upset you?" he was thinking out loud now, like he'd done back in the cell. She'd thought it stupid and dangerous but now the tables had turned and she was in trouble, if he worked out what even then, she still wasn't sure of, he's have the upper hand. "Irina," it was a warning word, he'd obviously seen her eyes slide to the opening of the alley, but he had her cornered.  
  
"Jack, if Sydney wants to like me, let her," she was being stupid, risky getting Jack angry simply to stop him from continuing his thoughts just then. Of course this, in itself was hopeless as he was doubtlessly going to dedicate his life to finding out what Irina's only stuff up actually was about. Jack paid her no attention, his brow furrowed as he thought. "Jack, she is obviously looking at me as more of an authority figure than you," still nothing, Irina was fearful that if she pushed too far Jack would kill her; but still, better dead than alive with him knowing what she truly felt. "I mean, understandable considering you lie to her so often."  
  
That got his attention and all thoughts of working her out were gone, now he just felt angry, not really at her, but at himself. In typical Jack style, he still managed to keep his voice level and the blame on someone else. "Like you can talk. You lied to her and to me your entire life."  
  
"Because it was my job," she had it in her mind to play out the passion and the conversation as long as she could.  
  
"When your job requires you to betray your own daughter, I believe that you have your priorities mixed up." He spat back, the tension rising as the rain continued.  
  
"It was the end of the Cold War Jack, the KGB were at their height, they didn't know that they were about to go down. I was just another spy. It was my job," she pleaded with him, trying to get her to believe him, all the while conscious of the fact that this was fake, just a lead to get him away from his own mind.  
  
"And after that?" he pushed, moving closer, trying to see her through the pouring rain as it came harder and with a strong bite, making him squint while she remained staring at him through open eyes.  
  
"After that, what was left of my country called me a traitor. I had no idea America was an option and it wasn't. They would have killed me if I came any where near the place."  
  
Jack knew she was right and the bite in her words was worse than the rain, but still the fire went on, his words flowing freely and smooth, still low and sly but louder as he fought with the pounding rain on the ground. "You expect me to believe that there was nothing you could have done to avoid your fate?"  
  
She shook her head, stepping again closer, feeling his heat hit her and tempted to step back, "No, I want you to understand that I'm not as evil as everyone makes out."  
  
"But you are still evil." He paused for a moment, before he realised he was falling for it again, softening and walking too close to the edge, so he stopped defending and started to attack. "You come back here, you shook your daughter, threaten everyone, bargain with the Central Intelligence Agency, successfully, gain the trust of Sydney, Agent Vaughn and a few others I might add. What exactly do you expect? For me to think that you've just changed? That you've..."  
  
He was cut off by a pair of unrealistically soft lips, foreign but native at the same time. At an angle, a little to his left, pressed against his. Instinctively he shut his eyes. Immediately, the sensations tripled. The feeling of the rain against his head and his back where his shirt and jacket hugged him , soaked straight through. No hands in his hair, no arms around his back, just her lips against his, nothing special, nothing with tongue or new, but still earth shattering.  
  
Irina had no idea why she'd initiated it, she just had and she wouldn't deny it wasn't electrifying. She could feel him pushing his back, not with his hands, just a silent message and she felt her back against the hard, cold brick wall a few seconds later. That meant he was enjoying it, or playing with her which was unlikely. Irina could no longer see him as a cold, heartless man, his lips were so soft and warm and perfect that it wasn't a possibility that they belonged to anyone but an angel.  
  
And then he pulled back, the illusion shattered and his face covered with puzzlement for a second before he grabbed her arm.  
  
Hmmm...not sure how I feel about that one, read and review and tell me. Ahem, thank you, yes all four tonight, lots of hard work today, been listening to Bond non stop and it keeps me high, along with the coffee, coke, pain killers, morphine, well yeah, anyway. I've noticed that I seem to get just as many reviews if I update two instead of four, so then what would the incentive be for updating al four when I can get the same praise for half, hmmmm? Joking, anyway, please review everything you read, I appreciate it. Thanks again. 


	11. The Word

Title: No gift, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe  
  
Author: Aeryn or Doona or Aeria or Donna Whelan if you're my English teacher in which case you've just discovered I know how to write more than half an essay and when I get to school I'm doomed. Oh god, how bad would that be?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine,  
  
Summary: Um, well I don't know....I'm just the writer, how am I supposed to know?  
  
Notes: Arggg, that one was wonderful to write. Hope you like it, read and review!  
  
Chapter 11  
  
Irina didn't know what to expect, it was pouring rain, her hair was everywhere, the rain making curl into spirals and fall, framing her face perfectly, the Latin music was louder than she remembered, quick and fast paced, egging her on and when he grabbed her arm, she froze. She'd though he was going to kiss her again, not the soft sweet kiss from before, the magic she'd been slammed with seconds ago but now seemed an eternity away, but a passionate kiss to end all kisses. She anticipated it and was ready, digging her feet into the ground and watching him like hawk.  
  
But he didn't, his hand just held onto her lower arm, his fingers tightly wrapped and digging into her as he forced her around, twisting her arm until he had it locked behind her back and her face against the dirty, wet wall. "Why did you do that?" His voice was harsh and angered but at the same time came out in a rasping, hoarse voice and Irina grinned against the wall, the sudden, uninvited thought that perhaps the electricity had been one way, dismissed along with his breathlessness. He pushed harder but didn't pull her arm back any further. "Why?"  
  
Irina grinned and promised herself that she'd win this one. She threw a meaningless answer back at him, not realising that her voice would come out as a rasp as well. "Because I wanted to."  
  
Jack heard the rasp in his own voice, mirrored in hers and pushed her harder, pulling her arm up higher, hearing her grunt in pain. "Why did you want to?" He yelled, raising his voice above the rain's own harsh volume. A crack of thunder hit overhead as he spoke, "Tell me Irina," he pulled the arm higher but got no response.  
  
She grinned and pushed her arm down, trying to relieve the stress. He wasn't at a point where he could hurt her yet, she was of course, faking the tension in her arm by pushing down and grunting. Another two centimetres and it was going to hurt though. She had to get out of the position, but she wasn't going to give in. "Because I can."  
  
He pulled up a little more, the motion having no effect, so he pushed her, hard against the wall, seeing her head move to the side and her almond eyes flash with anger. He regretted upsetting her further, but didn't relent, still wanting an answer, "You can jump off a cliff but you haven't done that."  
  
She grinned against the wall, "Do you see any cliffs?" He pushed her harder, a hand jutting into her back and a knee in the middle of her thigh. Obviously he didn't want to get too close, she grinned again, waiting for him to respond, he remained silent, obviously seething but didn't move the arm a millimetre higher.  
  
And then he was closer, the arm gone and she was flipped around, still cornered up against the wall, but now with her back up against it and one of Jack's arms on wither side of her, boxing her in. His face was just inches from hers and he adopted a sardonic and sickly tone to say, "Would you like me to find you one? I'm sure I would if I thought you were going to jump off it."  
  
Irina glared at him, her eyes locking with his and she spat out, feeling the heat radiating off him, the entire time, but using every fibre of her being to ignore it, "You wouldn't let me die, Jack. You couldn't."  
  
Jack's eyes narrowed as he realised she was right. Many times he had told himself that when he found her he'd kill her, and then even after she had come back, he'd said that if he could get her alone, like right now, he'd just shoot her. But he couldn't and the realisation forced him to lose concentration for a moment, causing Irina to throw another curve ball at him, "See, you really like me." He was ready to object, but a hand snaked up from between them and a finger laid itself on his mouth. It remained there and he wasn't stupid enough to risk opening his mouth with her skin so close. "Yes, you like the chance to fight with someone with brains, someone who can mirror your every move, your every thought. It's a challenge and you like that. You like me."  
  
There was no way he could deny it, even if he did think it was false, which he didn't, he couldn't speak and he couldn't shake his head so he just settled for what he hoped was a steady glare. "Hmmm," she was enjoying herself, her finger was, of course, on fire, not to mention her arms where his wrists kept touching her and it was still pouring rain which only added to the atmosphere of invisible tension. "Yes, living in a place where no one sees you for who you really are. Must be hard, Jack," she kept saying his name, letting her accent run riot with her words. "All these stupid CIA people, telling you what to do and now I'm here." She paused, watching him closely, seeing his eyes full of fire, she continued, sly grin in place.  
  
"I'm right aren't I? You like every moment you're with me more than you like living at SD-6, at the CIA, in your own home." His eyes fired up more, the tiny slicker exploding into a bon fire in front of her very eyes, it made her want to laugh, but she held back, trying to finish him off, "You like talking with me, you like working with me and you come to me when you can't work something out. Not the experts at the CIA, me. Why is that Jack? Why?"  
  
She removed her one finger, not just taking it away, but teasing him, all in the name of winning, she silently told herself, she let in run down, off his chin, slowly and almost painfully and then, instead of putting it back to her side, she let the fingertip rest just below her mouth, on the tip of her shin, straight and elegant as she thought hard about his possible answers, her face not showing any hint of her mind's work.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Answering a question with a question, however lame, was his best bet now and he was not going to tell her why he liked her, hell, he'd only just realised it then and right then, it was growing into so much more.  
  
"Because I know it aggravates you," she paused watching the flash of disapproval, "But also because I want to know why." It was an honest answer and she'd thrown it in, in the hope of him falling into a false sense of partial security. She didn't ask another question, just stared at him, waiting for him to make the next move, knowing he was still thinking over her question from before hand.  
  
"I don't have to answer you questions, you know..." he let his voice trail off, buying himself time.  
  
She grinned, maliciously, "I know that, I'm a prisoner of the United States, you're a CIA agent; you have me pinned against a brick wall, not the other way around. I know you don't have to, it's more of a question of whether or not you want to." She smiled again, looking him over, her head slightly to the side. As she waited the rain continued, more thunder thudding on above and quick flashes illuminating their faces.  
  
"You want to know why I put up with you?" he asked, conceding an inch in the hope that she would falter and mess up.  
  
Irina grinned, "I want to know why you like me." She paused while he just stared at her, hard as if trying to see through her. "But if you want to call it putting up with me, go ahead."  
  
She smiled smugly, putting him off yet again, "What if I said I didn't know." His voice was surprisingly serious, no longer angry but still passionate in an unusual emotional kind of way. "Hmmmm?"  
  
She looked at him, biting her lip on the inside, making it obvious and grinning at him, hoping he wouldn't notice the change in her composure. She had noticed him go from angry to serious and it was now dangerous land for her, but still, she pushed, "If you had absolutely no idea?" he nodded, "Well, first of all I'd call you an idiot, and then I would probably try and work it out for you."  
  
His eyes narrowed, "And what would your answer be?" She'd walked straight into that trap, god knew why, but she had and Jack was thankful that, for once, he had the upper hand. At least, he did, until her mouth opened again.  
  
"Are you saying you don't know why you like me," he nodded, just to get an answer. His eyes widening when she grinned, "You do like me then." He swallowed and some of the anger returned to his face, he said nothing, still waiting for her to answer the question, "I've already explained the attraction, the chemistry; shall we call it." She had him now, words like this were having an obvious effect on him, had the rain not been covering his face, she was sure he'd have been sweating. She grinned, "Thoughts, Jack?" the name was becoming a problem, she let it roll of her tongue with ease and accent, forcing passion and seduction into the single syllable with surprising ease.  
  
He glared at her, "Just the one," she scoffed, as if to say, 'I doubt that', but didn't interrupt him. "I might be mistaken," the words set alarm bells off in her head, to admit to a possible mistake meant he was sure he was right. "But if you're going to say that I am attracted to you, and I have no problem with you believing in such things, that we have chemistry, I'm going to have to ask if this is an admittance of love on your behalf."  
  
He smiled at her, self-satisfied with his attack despite the fact that that one little word was slowly eating him from the inside out even as he said it. She was stuck, to deny, meant starting form square one and to admit, well, was it even true, she paused as she thought it over. She had been in love with him, when they were married, for sure, but now? There was a simple way to work that out and in her head she weighed up the attraction, the chemistry, the liking of now against that of twenty years ago and she was shocked to find that there was ten times more electricity now than ever before. He was right; it may as well have been an admittance of love.  
  
She looked at him, he either knew it was true or he was sure it was wrong, either way, saying so would throw him and inside she was desperate to get it out, to just say it, but she couldn't not directly. She cursed herself once before a shaky voice that still had it's normal strong edge said, seemingly mocking the man pinning her to the wall, "What if I did?"  
  
Plain, nothing could be taken from that answer, it wasn't a stupid statement but it wasn't wise, completely indecisive, he could make what he wanted of it and he did, seeing right through to where Irina's real thoughts lay curled into a strong ball of confusion and orderly chaos and deciphering what she was really thinking. He smiled at her, tilting his head to the side as though he'd already won. And then said what he believed to be a lie and he told it well, not a smidgen of proof that he was lying through his teeth was shown and Irina had no choice but to trust him, "It would change everything."  
  
Lol, have fun with that, I liked writing that one. It was good. Read and review please!! 


	12. Tennis Match

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Sydney and Irina talk on Christmas Day, enter Jack  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Hope you are all enjoying this, I love writing. Merry Christmas to you all.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
She grinned at him, this wasn't as bad as she had thought at first, he was lulled completely into thinking he had control, he wasn't taking heed of her sly smiles or the way her shoulders were back, carefully avoiding his hands. "It would all change?" her voice was incredulous, teasing and high pitched as her eyes flashed in the lightning. "How so, Jack?" Still with the Jack, the word was torture.  
  
"Why would I tell you if you are going to try and deny it once I have?"  
  
She cut him off, throwing herself back into the game, "Deny what?"  
  
He smiled at her, brow creasing for only a moment as he noted her raised voice. "What you feel."  
  
She grinned, picking up on yet another weak spot, she combined two to see their effect, "You can say the word Jack," the name, he winced, "Love," he drew back and one of his arms fell. "You can say it." She grinned evilly, "Go on..." She cocked her head and raised both eyebrows, "Or are you scared of a word?"  
  
He swallowed, wondering how she had managed to turn this back on him, she had as good as admitted she was attracted to him and now she had him cornered with nothing but a word, "Irina, this is not a game,"  
  
Across again, it was a quick pattern of words, leaving no time to think or move, "I know that Jack."  
  
He snarled, "Listen," it was harsh and loose, not what he'd wanted to say and she had picked up on it, he could tell by the corner of her mouth twitching up. He needed control. "Stop acting like this." Lame words, meaningless and unrefined. He glared at her, still not giving up, sure he could grab her if she would just give him the chance. Of course, she wasn't planning on giving him the opportunity to make an attack, her mind was buzzing by itself, shocking her every few second with a new realisation of just how she felt for the man in front of her.  
  
She'd always known she liked him more than most other men, even after ten years without him, she sized up everyone alongside him and all fell short. She had thought this was because he was simply intelligent, but now, she knew better. She had, unwittingly, stumbled onto a realisation, that they did in deed have chemistry and now, as it ticked over in her mind, she was becoming more and more positive that it was love. It was so complex, so passionate, what else could it be bar hate. And, then, she honestly believed that two went hand in hand.  
  
She looked up to find him glaring at her, he'd stopped speaking but he hadn't given up. At first she expected her new found knowledge to make her step back and allow him to win, to want to be fair, not to fight, but it didn't. She still felt the fire, the need to win every argument. And then it struck her, yet another realisation, it wasn't about winning, it was about the passion, she didn't enjoy winning, she enjoyed the passion involved in the fight, both her own and his and for the moment his was there.  
  
Irina smiled at him, dipping her head, looking innocent and Jack, in typical Jack fashion, took this as an attack. "Say it," she said, not for want of winning, but for want of passion and perhaps, she admitted to herself, because she wanted to hear it. He kept his mouth tightly closed but she had her heart on forcing him to say the one word, to ask her if she loved him.  
  
Jack just stared, feeling his mask dissolving off his face as her neck and head moved like a snake coming in for the kill, winding up and down, trying to get an angle from which she could see the real him. It was off putting to say the least. He swallowed and went back to staring at her. Surprisingly, despite what was going on in front of him, his mind was ignoring most of it, still off to a few minutes before, thinking harder and harder over what he had said, over what she had said. What did it all mean? He knew she was right, he had gone to her for help, to talk to when he was stuck with a problem, he knew she was at least his equal in all fields, one of few that could match his thoughts, he knew there was tension between them, but he had always passed it off to being a factor of hate, not attraction.  
  
Still, in his head, he couldn't say it, he was laughing at himself inside his own head and Irina must have somehow detected this, because she took it as a bad sign and she scowled, momentarily, before grinning again and letting her voice coil out of her throat, deep, seductive, unfairly seductive, warm and cold at the same time, smooth and rough, it was killing him, but still he remained in his vow of silence, "Say ii, Jack, there's nothing stopping you. The fact that you can't is going to make good gossip if you don't come up with the goods." It was like a weird deal she'd made, she was bargaining and threatening and black mailing, but he was tight lipped, just glaring at her through narrowed eyes as she stood there in front of him.  
  
Her back still up against the wall, her smug grin still in place, but her body suddenly stopped moving, no longer did she wind up and down, looking for the angle, because she'd found the perfect movement of attack, the perfect place to start, she revelled in her small victory, before opening her mouth. "It will make good gossip," her voice had the strong accent, but it was level now, now teasing, but almost sincere, "If anyone gets a hold of the fact that I managed to outwit, outplay, out move Jack Bristow. Say it and it won't ever be gossip, one tiny little word, Jack." But still with the name, it hit him in the stomach, "How hard can it be?" She grinned and waited, counting to ten before cocking her head to the other side, narrowing her eyes still waiting, and the words escaping Jack's mouth eventually but not exactly what she had expected.  
  
He glared at her, only briefly, before he spoke, the words low, still dangerous, and almost whispered, "I love you." They were full of spite and something else. It wasn't a lie, they both knew it, Jack wasn't even trying to make it sound like one; he just gave up. Not the war, but the battle and it was out. Naturally, he hadn't anticipated the words he'd put before and after, but he had, and it felt strangely good.  
  
Personally, he wasn't sure he believed that it was true, but his mind kept ticking over the factors that said he was and he left the thoughts to themselves, instead turning his attention back to Irina who looked more shocked, scared and vulnerable than he'd ever seen her. Perhaps the battle had just won him the war. Still, he narrowed his eyes and tried to play along, "Happy? I've said it."  
  
Irina looked at him, brow low in shock and concentration as she tried not to completely freak. Had she heard him right? What did he mean? It was obvious to her that this wasn't just a ploy to, just words, to throw her, despite the fact that they did, they also meant something and she could tell by the flitter of shock that passed over his face the moment the words had escaped. She had no comeback, nothing to match and it was scary how warm, she felt, how alive, how the passion had seemingly doubled with three little words. It was now that she realised she was looking at the ground, the rain on the back of neck for the first time, her gaze lowered and she quickly, unthinkingly snapped her head back up, catching Jack's eye in a split second.  
  
He smirked at her, a full on, fully fledged, smirk, like he had win and she felt herself almost relaxing as she drew her head back, eyebrows raised, her eyes conveying a message of, You think you're good don't you?' and his eyes answering with, 'I know I am'. She glared at him, a moment longer before, giving him more confidence by starting to move away. Predictably, Jack thought she was about to run and, not ready to let her go when he had just got his nose in front, his hands soon found hers, holding them tightly. She had her head turned away from him and smiled as she expertly began to draw away, pulling towards the other side of the alley, making him follow or hurt her.  
  
She acted out of character, this was the first warning Jack got, she struggled instead of flooring him, which he knew she could do, it wasn't even a good struggle, just half assed and like you'd expect of the weak female in a fifties movie. It was a few seconds later that he found himself in the same position she'd had him in, this time on the other side of the alley. She let his hands drop to his side and made no move to force him to stay, he could leave either by going right of left, just not backwards and for a second he wondered why she'd done it at all. He narrowed his eyes and watched her, his admission when it should have been hers still ringing in his ears.  
  
She persuaded him to move over there, she liked to think she had persuaded him, but to be honest, she had tricked him. Still, that wasn't important, she knew she still had the stunned, vulnerable, open look about her and try as hard as she might, no amount of smugness, indifference or aloofness could make it leave her features. She glared at Jack a minute, before responding, "why did you say it?'  
  
He laughed it off, his chuckle low and throaty, "Another question? When are you going to answer one of mine?"  
  
She stared at him a moment, the laughter unfair considering she had hoped he'd be a floored as her considering he'd admitted such a thing. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine? Why did you say it?" She was tempted to raise her arms to keep him in place, just in case he chose to run. But she held back, waiting, the rain still pouring down. For a response.  
  
"I didn't mean to," he grins and I wonder why he's taking this so lightly, I expected him to at least be acting madder than usual. Jack was actually thinking the same thing, but the fact that was finally one up on Irina, the fact that he'd said something so outrageous, that it seemed to be true, it just took a lot off his chest somehow and it felt good. He smiled again, less this time as he tried to work out how to play his next move. "I just did."  
  
She cut across, him not because she thought he was lying but because he was telling the truth, "That's not a real reason."  
  
He looked at her, watching to see just how badly this was for her and finding her floundering, "You just don't like things simple."  
  
Cutting across again as she tried to get herself back into the game, "Complex is fun, Jack," his name again, playing with it. Her last and only defence and it still had its wanted effect. The accent was a killer, Laura hadn't had any where near such a voice, just plain and American with hardly anything that clued people into her heritage, but Irina's voice did, it was true to Russia, her words heavy and coming from deep in her throat to sound smooth and lingering in the air. It wasn't memories that it brought back to Jack; it was one of the little things she could be seductive about.  
  
Jack just watched her still, knowing she was running out of options, and knowing it was now his turn to ask, "What you said before," immediately she knew what he was going back to and thought it brave considering he was the one on the wall, "Was it an admittance of love?" The word was easier now, still full and multi layered, but not threatening.  
  
Not to Jack, but maybe to Irina who saw herself with four choices. Lie and say no, but she couldn't, not without letting him see she was lying which would then be useless. Run, just turn and leave, but she had no where to go. She could tell him, just say it, but she found her throat dry, which left her with one choice. She put it down to the fact that it was her only choice; that she could do nothing else, but she knew she wanted to, so she did.  
  
R and R people! 


	13. To show him or not to show him an easy q...

Chapter Thirteen  
  
She showed him, it was her last choice, out of lie, run, tell and show. It was all she had left, so she took it. She snaked a hand up and around to the back of his neck, just where the hair stopped, where the skin was sensitive. She gave him to time to dodge, no time to speak, no time to subdue, just moving forward, towards him, her eyes closed and her mind whirling out of control as she tried to find reason for her actions. She expected him to throw her off him the minute she got too close but he didn't.  
  
This kiss was different from the soft, undemanding kiss of before, this one was passionate and fast from the word go. Irina wasn't going to waste time seeing how he would react, she wanted to see how she would react, and, in the name of self exploration, for that one moment, she let her heart control her body.  
  
Jack saw her coming and for some reason, he didn't want to stop her, didn't want to avoid it, he wanted to see what it was like, so her let her do what she wanted.  
  
Her lips crushed his as they landed, hard and fast, her nose skimming past his on her right as she kissed him, the angle perfect, her lower lip planted firmly between his, the hand at the nape of his neck, angling his head down, forcing him to welcome her. Surprisingly for both, he did. Opening his mouth almost immediately and kissing her back with as much passion as she though she had, perhaps more. It was astonishing; electricity seemed to have encompassed them both, tiny jolts running through their very blood and bones as she found his hands on her hips.  
  
He broke away for a second, his chest heaving just millimetres from her own, she grinned at him, sucking in a breath and was ready with some testing comment, something to attack, something to excuse her for her sudden rush. She had them ready, dozens of cruel words lined up, but she didn't get to use them; Jack's lips coming at hers this time as he dived back in, the feeling of her was so seductive and fervent that it was addictive, something no man, in particular this man, could ever pull away from.  
  
His hands moved up from her slim hips to where her body curved in at the waist, the skin taunt and perfect, squeezing roughly but not in a painful way, just pulling her to him, drawing her closer and closer until the heat from each others still not touching skin was almost unbearable. He kissed her, his tongue delving in and out and he explored the territory he'd once known so well and was now committed to remembering to detail. She puled back a moment, her breath shorter and faster than she'd ever experienced on a mission. She gulped down the air as though it were water before looking him the eye.  
  
All she saw was raw hunger, desire, nothing of hatred or a scowl and then she had no more time to analyse as his lips crashed back down on hers, his hands finding their way under her shirt and moving up to the centre of her back, pushing her quickly into him, harder and harder until he could feel her body against his from her feet up to where their lips were still locked.  
  
Irina couldn't ignore it any longer, she'd scarcely been able to stop herself from whimpering under Jack's touch, her dormant hand suddenly snaked up and over his shoulder, her fingers weaving through his hair. And then he pulled back, not for lack of breath, but to study her, his eyes still filled with desire and his hands never leaving her back. She breathed heavily, there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do, just stare back and, she hoped, he would see what in her what he wanted to see.  
  
He shook his head slightly, still unable to find a reason and gave in again, seeing Irina as breathless and shocked as he, he could swallow only once before letting his lips tentatively brush over the this woollen material that covered her shoulder. Even with the barrier, it sent shivers down her spine. He heard her sigh and grinned, god knew why, but he did, he smiled, his lips still against the slightly itchy material.  
  
Irina felt a rush of air against her and arched her back defensively as she found herself pinned with her back against the wall. Momentarily, she wondered how he'd done that, but then one of his hands left her back and she felt it, landing near her neck, mirroring the position her hand had on his neck. His lisp came back in and she kissed back harder, the initial shock leaving, the sensation remaining. The hand grazed her ear as it passed, stopping on her shoulder, his thumb finding the hollow of her neck through the material and his fingers working their way under the loosely wrapped scarf.  
  
He was good at this. When they'd been married, he'd always had a way with his hands, but never like this. Irina almost let loose a deep moan, the only thing stopping her being pure willpower, as the scarf became looser and fell to the ground. She bit her tongue hard, to stop the following noises as Jack's mouth moved to concentrate on the sensitive he knew she was partial to that lay behind her ear, her hands slackening as she leaned back against the wall, on foot raised against it to give her extra balance. His hands continued to work, agonisingly slowly on her neck, the scarf forgotten at the ground but the tight jacket she always wore at the cell still restricting him. She silently thanked god that she had forgotten to grab the sweater Sydney had given her, on the way out of the restaurant.  
  
Her fingers worked at his head and try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from pushing his mouth closer to her neck, all thoughts of why she shouldn't be doing this gone from her mind as she struggled not to lose all self control. Jack let his tongue flick over the pressure point, eliciting a slight jerk from the woman in front of him as he knew she fought back a moan. Long ago had he given up ever understanding what or why he was doing this and now it was just that he was doing this, aiming for things, to make her moan, to make her say it, to make her weaken, that was the only reason he continued. There was no longer an illusion of manipulation or to gain trust, he just did it because it was right.  
  
His fingers finally found what they'd been aiming for and his lips left her neck, trailing, hovering a centimetre from the skin down to where the material stopped him from getting any access to anything further. Her skin should have been freezing, she shouldn't have been able to feel her skin, the cold rain and the freezing wind should have combined to chill every part of her skin stupid enough to expose itself. Instead, the skin exposed, the skin getting attention from Jack's hands and mouth was in danger of contracting burns. She felt like she was on fire, it was a magnificent feeling that she wasn't going to stop and so when the hand that remained on her back lifted to unzip the jacket, she made no move to stop him.  
  
His fingers crept under the material at her shoulder and along with his hands she shrugged it off, revealing the white tank top she wore underneath. This left her arms and most of her shoulders completely bare and she could feel his eyes appreciating them before he tenderly nuzzled her shoulder, the passion building and Irina's hands moving down to wrap around his neck as his tongue swiped at the sensitive skin. She drew him back up to her mouth, kissing him hard, once twice, the passion still building as his hands ran up and down her back, eventually finding the courage to run over her taunt abdomen and up to under her arms where they worked at drawing her ever closer, the wall the only thing stopping her from falling at the sensation.  
  
Another feverish to the mouth, tongues given only seconds to explore before Jack pulled back and passionately laid kisses along her jaw line. She bit her tongue, her head lolling back at the pleasure. "Jack," mumbled, too soft for her voice and almost ending with a moan as she clamped her mouth shut, letting him lift her head to get to the white skin just below her jaw. He kissed it and she had to gulp again before continuing, her voice harder but still half way to a moan, "This is insane."  
  
He pulled back a second, only taking the time to glance up at her to see if she'd returned to her normal smugness and was no longer feeling as hot as he, one glimpse of her flushed face told him she had not and he pulled her back to him, ravaging her neck as he mumbled against her skin, his voice exasperated and rasping, "You don't think I know that?"  
  
Irina giggled for a second, his breath getting her right behind the ear and his words so unlike him that she couldn't stop her self until it was too late, though she didn't regret it as Jack turned his attention up to that very spot, knowing it was obviously an easy target. She waited a few seconds, trying again not to let herself moan, to whimper, "When we get back I have to go back into my cell."  
  
He cut her off, his voice louder and impatient, but still as though he found the noise a waste of breath, "I know, and if anyone finds out we did this, I'll probably be joining you."  
  
She grinned at him, unable to help herself to a go at quick wit, "Would that be so bad." It sounded like he growled, but she wouldn't have bet on it, as he ignored the words, bringing his mouth back up to hers, kissing her deeply, his mind working overtime to stop him from pushing this all to far. Already he was way out of line. But all he wanted was to here her moan, to here her admit it, that was his aim. Stupid considering he would, in ten minute's time, be claiming to hate the woman, but right then, that was his only objective in life.  
  
Irina's head lolled back again as he continued to work at her and for a second she almost forgot to keep her mouth shut, grinning hysterically as she regained control but the smile disappeared as she felt his teeth against the skin that covered the muscle that joined her shoulder to her neck. She felt it shudder on it's own and bit her tongue. He'd known it the minute he laid his lips on it, this was the best spot, the easiest way to make her moan; he nibbled a little then scrapped his teeth along it, feeling her left hand join her right in his hair. He smiled against her skin, biting down as he found the pulse point and ginning in triumph as she let loose a low, incredible moan that originated somewhere deep in her throat.  
  
He would have gone on had he not felt a presence behind him. He stopped, mad for the interruption, glancing up to Irina who was staring over his shoulder, still red and her head totally soaked from the rain. He turned and looked, his face falling as the moment was broken, reality washing back over him as he saw Sydney standing up against the other wall, staring at them, completely shocked, her mouth wide along with her eyes as she locked eyes with her father's.  
  
Ahem, well, basically I posted two chapters last night but then realised that I should split them, so here is still a new chapter. I've decided on two updates a day, despite the fact that I have quite a bit ready to go, on the basis that two gets replies as much as four and basically, once I go back to school, writing time will be denied, massively. Anyway, what do you think, personally, I would love to just be able to write scenes just like this one, but there is that little matter called plot. But I just love it. Read and Review!! 


	14. Responsibility

Not sure if this works, the reason it took so long to update is basically because it has taken me this long to work out how to get their responses correct, I'm still not convinced they are anywhere near being right, but it was worth a try. Tell me what you think and we will see how quickly I can update,  
  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
They must have all stood, staring at each other for hours, Jack just staring at his daughter, Sydney looking from one to the other, completely oblivious to how she felt and Irina still trying to make sense of what was happening. In actual fact, they were only standing there for a few minutes, the rain still pouring down, lightening illuminating their faces and no one prepared to speak a word until Irina smiled, weakly, "Sydney." She said it like Sydney had just arrived at a party and this was her welcome, the bright smile that appeared only lasting a few seconds before her face disappeared into confusion and thought.  
  
It was not something that was going to start a conversation, and they stood looking from one to the other for another minute or two. "I don't believe it," was all Sydney could manage to say.  
  
"Sydney," Jack began but found there was nothing to put after it, even now he had no idea exactly what he was going to do about this entire fiasco.  
  
Irina pushed her shoulders back and held her head high, "Sydney," she said again, this time managing to continue, "It was me, I forced him to kiss me." Jack couldn't help but stare at his wife, what she was doing was both incredibly honourable and incredibly stupid, this could make Sydney hate her for the rest of both their lives; that was, if Sydney was dumb enough to believe her mother's words. "Don't blame him."  
  
It was so unlike her, but then, Jack realised, this was typical. She was simply throwing a curve ball. Jack immediately regretted thinking she was purposely being manipulative and realised he was truly so in love with her that there was no way he was going to be able to look at her without seeing a goddess. This caused his wide eyed gaze to move from Irina to Sydney who had her eyes narrowed as she started at her mother.  
  
"No," defiant and not as angry as Jack had expected, more confused than anything else. "I saw you..." it seemed like the wrong thing to say, but Sydney could not honestly work out what she wanted to tell them first. "No one was forced."  
  
Irina quick again, "Then I tricked him," Jack's eye to her again and he silently hoped he wouldn't start to drool. The rain was making her even more beautiful than he had ever imagined; her face, neck and arms shining in the lightening and her hair curled into tight ringlets. He quickly snapped himself out of his daze, remembering she was still the enemy and despite what he felt he was to treat her as such.  
  
Sydney laughed; her voice sarcastic until it dulled to deep thought as she spoke, "I can't believe it." Neither Jack nor Irina could tell if she was angry or sad, there was nothing escaping the mask she expertly wore. There was a pause in the conversation, thunder overhead cracking loud enough to force all faces to look up. Then Sydney started again, "Why?"  
  
Simple enough question and definitely one they should have been able to answer. It was obvious she knew it had been a kiss neither had planned and that it had indeed not been forced, but that was all she needed to know, why. She had seen the entire event, from behind a large wheelie bin and she'd been completely gob smacked to say the least. It was a shock to the system. Everyone was aware there was tension between her parents, but no one, not even she had ever imagined it could be resolved, partially, with such a kiss. And while it wasn't something most daughters want to see their parents doing she had to admit it had been something worth making a movie out of. One of those passionate, incredible occurrences.  
  
Irina was letting her eyes slide to Jack far too often so she decided to focus on Sydney. God knew what could or would have happened had Sydney not turned up and now she was faced with a question she didn't want to answer, especially considering she already knew the answer and it would take a second to explain. Her eyes were back on Jack, his hair full of tiny droplets of water and his face wet and glinting in the flashes of light. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged to both of them, not signalling she didn't know, but that she wanted Jack to answer for her.  
  
Jack just raised an eyebrow, his face more open than it should have been and a content smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. God damn this women for making me feel so good were his exact thoughts before he delved into his millions of excuses, all of which he knew would leave Sydney disbelievingly staring at him. And all he could come up with was, "We didn't mean to."  
  
He wanted to hit him self over the head, why did Irina always manage to do this to him, when she was Laura the effect had been lessened as the woman had been portrayed as somewhat less competitive and challenging as Irina, but now... He was renowned for being able to talk his way out of anything and here he was with his best answer could have been outdone by a three year old's. He sighed and hung his head, his lips still wishing they could twitch up but his mind cautioning them off.  
  
Sydney's mouth perked up, "We?" Jack realised his mistake and rolled his eyes at his own sudden incompetence. Sydney continued, "I don't believe this."  
  
"Honey," for a second Jack though Irina was addressing him, but she wasn't, a smile tugging at her features as she realised what he'd believed, Sydney just watched them with growing confusion and curiosity. "I understand this has got to be...very unbelievable, but it's the same for us."  
  
"Us?" Sydney shook her head, watching them like a three year old watches a movie for the first time, with unbridled amazement, "Look, I mean, you guys are supposed to despise each other,"  
  
Jack interrupted, "We do." Then bit his lip not because he thought it was causing pain but because Irina was, he could tell, grinning again at the blatant lie.  
  
"But now I find you," Sydney paused, knowing this was the wrong thing for her to say and that there was a chance she was going to be shot for it, but found no other way to say it, "I find you in an alleyway, soaking wet with your tongues down each other's throats." There was no response from either as they were both suddenly acutely aware that she was right and were unable to control little sideways glances at the other. "What do you want me to think?"  
  
Irina answered, her voice surprisingly sincere and uncontrolled, "I'll tell you what I want you to think once I've worked out what I should think." Sydney was taken aback for a second. And Irina continued, "It was, if nothing else, a spur of the moment thing and I think ultimately it is up to your father to decide what we do with this."  
  
She was passing it off, she did it expertly but Jack picked up on it, "You are not going to pass this straight to me, this was your fault as well."  
  
Sydney kept her mouth tightly shut, knowing what was coming even if they didn't, "I'm not," Irina ground out, "I'm simply saying you should decide considering it isn't really up to me."  
  
Jack shook his head, tiny droplets of water cascading down his face as the rain hardened again, "You're passing this on, laying it all on me. Which, I might add, is typically you."  
  
She interrupted him, "Jack, if I were to make a decision, no matter what I decided to do with this occurrence of us having, as our daughter so eloquently put it, our tongues down each other's throats, if I were to decide that it had no meaning at all," she paused, seeing him glare at her, "You wouldn't accept that. If I decided we should go and get married," she paused seeing him look a little more shocked than she had expected, "You would have the same reaction of hostility."  
  
"I don't care what excuse you have for this, you are trying to pin this on me." He crossed his arms, both of them forgetting their daughter was still there, watching amazed as the passion exploded again.  
  
"What would you have me do?" she asked.  
  
It was a good question and trowing a question into the argument put Jack onto a rocky road, he had to think about his answer, trying to find something both indifferent and convincing, "I want you to take your share of responsibility." Her eyebrows rose and he realised he'd made the wrong choice,  
  
"What are we teenagers?" He glared at her, "Jack this is up to you because if it were up to me, I'd have myself broken out of the CIA and the three of us go to Barbados." He stared at her through the rain, wondering how much truth her statement held and for an instant thinking if it were possible. "Now, unless you are happy for that to happen, I suggest you come up with an answer or we are going to Barbados."  
  
Sydney couldn't believe that didn't see it, it was shocking to watch, the kind of chemistry that Spielberg or Scorsese looked for. It was like little tiny shots of electricity and fire and ice and snow and magical lights were passing between them and they were oblivious to it until it struck. It had been the same when they'd argued before ending up kissing and here it was again, she silently promised herself not to let it get to kissing again, but decided to stay quiet until they reached a point.  
  
At the back her mind the fact that there was a good chance she wouldn't see it coming as neither of them had rang out, but Sydney quickly dimmed it, knowing that there was no way she could stop them just then as their voices raised to overcome the rain and each other's.  
  
"Irina, this is not a game," Jack told her.  
  
"You've told me this before Jack and I understood you after the third time," her voice dripped with sarcasm as she moved so that their noses were mere inches away from the others.  
  
"I will not have this entirely blamed on me," he probably would have continued but she again cut across him.  
  
"Blamed? You make it sound like it was a bad thing." Sydney grinned in spite of herself, Irina had her father cornered again, he couldn't say it was as the lie would be outright and he couldn't say it was good as it would be like throwing the game away without a fight.  
  
For a moment he just stood, the rain lightening until he no longer had to squint, glaring at his wife, arch nemesis and possibly only true love, not that he would ever admit it out loud again. The promise he made himself was false, he knew that, but he hung on to it as though it were all that stood between him and eternal damning. He narrowed him eyes, Irina's face easier to see as the rain slowed to a gentle patter. He ignored the question, knowing it was weak of him ,"I am not taking responsibility for something that was obviously started by you."  
  
Irina grinned looking at him slyly, still not throwing even a way ward glance at her daughter who stood forgotten a foot away. He smirked back, wondering what her next line would be but finding it was not dialogue that she used, instead leaning in and kissing him quickly, once, twice on the lips and then once lower on the jaw, she pulled back, grabbing the wall.  
  
Ahem, well took me long enough, basically because I had no idea what anyone's reactions would be, still, I'm not sure if this is even a little right. Please review, can go and read my other fics. 


	15. Back to the house

Chapter Fifteen  
  
The truth was she grabbed the wall to stop herself from falling head over heels into another passionate kiss with the man in front of her, but she wasn't about to say that. Instead she smiled, flicking her tongue over her lips for added effect. Jack scowled but she could see the corners of his mouth trying to twitch up, "Who," she paused, suddenly realising that Sydney was there, but decided to continue anyway, "Who should take responsibility for that?"  
  
Jack glared at her; shocked she would do such a thing to prove a point, but quietly pleased that she done it all. He would have grabbed her had she not pulled back and judging by the smirk on her face she knew he would have. At the question he ad to think, it was extremely valid and he had to answer it, not only to sound like he had a brain but also because he'd already avoided too many questions that night. Barbados was looking better and better. He paused, "Yours." She must have anticipated his answer because the grin grew.  
  
"Yes, and what if I hadn't pulled away." Jack's eyes narrowed along with Sydney's, all three of them knew the answer so Irina continued, "So I took responsibility and stopped the...inevitable."  
  
Jack could do little but glare, theoretically she was right, and that left no one to be responsible at all. He let his head fall down and was about to give up when Sydney interrupted, "Excuse me," they were both suddenly aware she was there and instinctively took a step back, Sydney smiled. "I think this leaves me as mediator." Images from Kashmir came flooding back, it was just happening again, only with different issues at stake. "And I think we should go somewhere with a little heat."  
  
Irina narrowed her eyes before nodding to Sydney, smiling in her normal smug way, "Good idea, I'll run in and pay the bill." Jack nodded to her, knowing she was setting him up to talk to Sydney but not really caring. Then she put a hand to her mouth, "Oh, wait, am I allowed or won't there be a huge chance of me running away," she grinned, "Perhaps to Barbados." She was never going to drop the Barbados thing and he knew it.  
  
Sydney smiled at the effect her mother had on her father, "I figure you won't run," she paused and answered in a way that reminded Jack too much of Irina, "Not even to Barbados."  
  
Irina nodded and took the money Sydney gave her, having none herself and disappeared out of the alley at a brisk pace, Jack and Sydney followed her at a more leisurely pace out to the front of the restaurant, Jack remembering to gingerly pick her jacket back up off the ground earning yet another smirk from Sydney. Walking out, jack avoided the topic Irina had obviously left them alone to discuss and asked Sydney instead, "Where are we off to now?"  
  
Sydney shrugged, "I don't really mind, but I was hoping we could go back to my place."  
  
He shook his head quickly, "What about Francie and that...guy....Will," he said the second name with disgust. "We can't possibly go back to the house if there is any chance of them being there."  
  
Sydney shook her head, "It's after eight, and they'll both be with their parents by now. Will was going over to her sister's and Francie was heading over to Sacramento to see her family for Boxing Day." She shrugged," I don't know why, I just thought that we might go home and talk."  
  
This was, in Jack's opinion far too dangerous, Sydney's house contained far too many threats to his outer façade which was already in need of repair, he grinned, but this night was already going to have to be forgotten, why not make Sydney happy, he pursed his lips before answering,. "Fine, we go to your house, but I to leave before midnight. I have work tomorrow."  
  
Anyone might have thought it strange for a man to be working Boxing Day, at the CIA of all places and asked about bonuses, but Sydney was prepared to bet a year's wages on the fact that her father probably asked to work on Boxing Day so she just smiled and let the conversation roll into uncomfortable whisperings from nearby restaurants and cars. Sydney eventually broke it, "So, I don't suppose you'd like to elaborate on just why you did what you did..."  
  
He would have glared but in truth he still wasn't sure himself, he looked to her a moment, thinking hard before telling her, still wanting to be honest with his only daughter, "I'm still not entirely sure." She watched him, still not happy with the response, "It was impulsive." He shrugged, seeing Irina wander out with the thick sweater and the two scarves.  
  
She smiled at them both, forcing a scowl out of jack and a rolling of Sydney's eyes. She handed Sydney her scarf and Jack his, seeing he had her jacket she was suddenly aware she was standing bare armed in the middle of winter on the streets of LA. She shivered and Jack instinctively held out the jacket, ready to pass it to her. She just smiled and turned waiting for her husband to help her into the article of clothing. He glared at her back again before giving in and slipping it over her arms, careful not to touch her and leaving it hanging off her shoulders. She turned and pulled it on properly, zipping it up.  
  
Irina handed the change back to Sydney and asked, "Where to now?"  
  
Sydney smiled, "We were thinking of going back to my place..." she let her voice trail off as though to give Irina a hand in deciding whether or not to go.  
  
She just grinned and nodded, "I'd love to," she said, choosing her words with one consequence in mind and seeing it as Jack's fists clenched at his sides, this word was going to work her miracles.  
  
They caught a taxi, Sydney finding herself, thankfully between them, stopping any contact at all and getting a chance to speak with both of them without the threat of physical tension. Of course the forty minutes trip still had the expected psychological, spiritual tension, mental tension and every other -al kind of tension that existed on the face of the planet, but Sydney as content to walk up the path and open the door to her house for her parents as they followed her, heads down against the wind that had sprung up.  
  
For that reason they entered before her and invited themselves into the main living area, Sydney mom commenting on her way down the hall, "I love the colour...and all the photos you've got up." She turned in the living room, admiring the area until her gaze landed on the melting ice cream and coke bottles sitting all over the bench. "Your friends had a good time. You should have gone home to them," she commented though she didn't mean the last bit, it was just common curtesy.  
  
Sydney just smiled, grabbing as much of the mess that Will and Francie had left and throwing it into the sink on top of the other dozen dishes that were already there. "Yep, this is where I live."  
  
Irina just continued to look around while Jack sat down on one of the wooden chairs near the bench that looked into the kitchen, "You actually spend time here?" she joked, "I thought you lived at work."  
  
Sydney smiled sadly but felt the conversation slipping back into relaxation and following, "I would sleep at the offices if they'd let me just to save the trip each day." She grinned at her mother, still cleaning up the kitchen.  
  
"You work as hard as your father."  
  
Jack nodded, smiled proudly and seeing Sydney was about to deny it, he added, "Possibly harder." To which Irina just chuckled and wandered over into the kitchen, wordlessly clearing away barely touched ship packets that seemed to have been opened just for the fun of opening them. Cleaning up, she stumbled onto a scrap of yellow paper with pen scrawled over it, choosing not to read it, she nudged Sydney, handing it over and shrugging her shoulders.  
  
Sydney stopped what she was doing and took it from her, her brow creasing as she thought hard, reading the scribble that was undoubtedly that of her reporter friend, Will's. After a second, she just grinned and looked at her mother, "You didn't read this?"  
  
Irina shook her head, "No," seeing the surge of relief, she asked, "Why?"  
  
Sydney shook her head, "No reason," and then threw the piece of paper in the bin. Irina, predictably to anyone on the outside; including Jack who would have called out in warning but wasn't fast enough, grabbed it before it had even touched down on top of the rest of the pieces of paper. She held it close and all Sydney could do was whine a very daughter like, "Oh mom, give it back."  
  
Irina grinned, "This Will guy..."  
  
Jack answered for Sydney, "Is a real pain up the ase." Sydney glared at him and he couldn't help but smile.  
  
Irina looked at her daughter, mock sadness in her eyes as she said, "You're supposed to be a super spy and you throw your secret notes into the bin whole?" she grinned and leant over the bench to read it. She grinned, "Who is this?"  
  
Jack perked up then, suddenly interested he looked to Irina who obliged the unspoken ask by repeating the note out loud, "Hey Syd, we're off, sorry we couldn't see you, Francie seems to think you're off on some date with Michael," Irina stopped, knowing who it was but having to comment, just to further humiliate her daughter who was by now a bright shade of red, "That word in particular is scrawled extra hard into the paper. Anyway, some date with Michael, who Francie keeps calling Picture Frame guy. While I've explained the whole protocol thing," Irina grinned, "She is determined to know where you are so have a nice little excuse when you get home, Okay?" She looked at Sydney, almost too amused to go on, "Then in other writing we have, and I'm guessing this is Francie, PS you need some action, go and find Michael."  
  
Sydney was ready to just dissolve and wished she could, her mother's amused look centred on her, her father's look bordering between a smile and anger only making it more difficult to explain, luckily her mother started speaking again, "Is this Mr Vaughn that they are referring to?"  
  
Sydney nodded, "Yes, Will told Francie about him so I had to pretend he was a guy at work I liked," she turned to her father, hoping he was tired enough not to notice such lies "It was just so she didn't catch on."  
  
Irina nodded, turning and heading back to the living area and sitting down across from Jack, staring at him with his harsh look as he glared at his own daughter for being in love.  
  
She glared a moment before saying, exasperated, "Oh Jack, lighten up, she hasn't done anything wrong." To which Jack just grunted.  
  
Irina only took offence from this, thinking she was losing her touch and staring up yet another argument, "Oh come on is love truly such a bad thing?  
  
Read and review, it is the only way to get more and this one wasn't given many reviews last chapter, sort of made me not want to write any more today, Oh well, here's some anyway, hope you like it. 


	16. Scrabble

Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.  
  
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.  
  
Summary: Sydney and Irina talk on Christmas Day  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.  
  
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.  
  
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Hope you are all enjoying this, I love writing. Merry Christmas to you all, It's 5pm boxing day here. Chapter Sixteen  
  
Jack didn't react at all, his gaze level but not as cold as they expected, slowly he raised an eyebrow and shrugged at her, Sydney walking over, an inquisitive look about her and sat down between them. She placed three cups of coffee between them, smiling at her mother and content to change the conversation for the moment, "Vaughn told me how you like your coffee."  
  
This brought an immediate smile to her mother's face who picked the cup up, holding it between her hands and warming them, sniffing at it, "Yes. You would have guessed any way though."  
  
Sydney shrugged, "You're probably right." She motioned her father to his own cup which looked the same as her mother's but had a spoonful of sugar mixed in.  
  
Irina only smiled as he picked it up and took a tentative sip, replacing the cup on the table as he found the liquid too hot and looking up, his eyes still hazy from the commotion of beforehand. Irina just tilted her head, showing she was about to speak and leaving the other two with suspended breath as they waited for either a smart comment or something wise and riddle-filled.  
  
She grinned, "You still like to have some sweetness?" Jack looked at her, his gaze aiming for a typical glare but ending up with the "I'm getting sick and tired of this. I want to jump you, god damn it, work out what you want, tell me and just shut the hell up' look.  
  
Surprisingly she got the message, her head coking her neck drawn back as she watched him, incredulous look on her face as she wondered what she'd just seen flitter across his face. She grinned eventually and turned to Sydney, "Sydney, truly your house seems beautiful."  
  
Sydney smiled graciously and ducked her head in humbleness. "You think," her mother nodded, ignoring Jack who seemed to be having trouble involving himself in the conversation, "It's okay. I'd love to fix it up, but I just don't get the time."  
  
Irina smiled and nodded, "That is definitely understandable."  
  
Sydney was about to answer when the phone rang, Jack immediately looked at her, his eyes questioning but her own face blank, he asked, "Are you expecting any calls?"  
  
Irina rolled her eyes and answered for Sydney as she moved to answer the phone, "Unlike you, Sydney probably has a social life." Jack went for a glare again but came up with the same, quickly shutting down and turning to stare at an old stain on the coffee table. Irina listened, half heartedly to Sydney's conversation, trying not to, but unable to stop herself, just liking to be able to hear her daughter's voice in a normal conversation, not one that was life or death or with her murdering mother.  
  
"Hello?" Sydney picked the phone up, keeping her back to her parents as she waited for an answer.  
  
Francie's voice came through, "Syd, oh my god, finally, I was wondering if you'd ever get home."  
  
Sydney panicked for a second, wondering why her friend was phoning her. "Sorry, what's the matter?"  
  
Francie pauses on the other end of the line and, unbeknownst to her, Sydney starts ticking off the possible nightmares that might have occurred in her short, unplanned absence. But then her voice comes back, "My key broke, I'd pulled over and I was turning the car off and it just broke."  
  
Sydney breathed a silently sigh of relief, "Have you called for help?"  
  
"That's the thing," she said, "My spare key is there at the apartment,"  
  
Sydney sighed, letting her eyes slide to her parents where they seemed to be having a silent war with their eyes, she shook her head before answering , "Where are you?"  
  
Francie's voice came back quieter, "Are you sure this isn't going to be a problem?"  
  
Sydney smiled that sweet and false smile she always used for lies, she was usually surprised she didn't automatically smile like that when she was being interrogated, "No, it's fine, just tell me where you are."  
  
A sigh of relief, "You know that road that bends past the restaurant we used to go to with Will? The Tudor?"  
  
"Yep..."  
  
"Parked outside there."  
  
Sydney grinned, "I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay?"  
  
"Thanks a lot Sydney, I owe you."  
  
"Okay, bye." Sydney hung up the phone before turning to her parents, neither of them watching her and both seemingly oblivious to her conversation. Most of her missions called for a quick exit, but this was different, this demanded one, she looked for the spare set of keys, found them and pocketed them with the least amount of noise she could manage. She grabbed her own keys and her bag, containing her purse and ran for the door.  
  
She would of made it had her shoes not made such a noise on the ground. The apartment was silent before that and her running split the tension in the air like a knife, drawing attention to her from both parties as she turned the doorhandle, "Sydney?" her father asked, "Where are you going?"  
  
Sydney turned, her hand still grasping the handle, ready to open the door. "My friend, France, she's stuck and she needs her spare key." Sydney turned the handle fully pulling the door open.  
  
Her mother interrupted, accent thick with the words, "What are we supposed to do?"  
  
Jack glared at her, finally managing to pull one off and finding himself sullen when he realised neither woman was watching him. Sydney just shrugged and answered, one foot out the door, "Play scrabble, I'll be back in half an hour."  
  
And then Sydney was gone, out the door, pulling it shut and running to her car. She climbed in, debating over whether or not to turn and go back, wondering what would happen while she was away. There were, among the possibilities, two very prominent dangers and both equally likely to happen, she smiled to herself as she decided to leave them be, turning the car on and driving off. They would either kill each other or go back to doing exactly what she found them doing in the alley way. She frowned, pushing on the accelerator harder, trying to get through the traffic as she realised half an hour could stretch out for a very long time. And they were, no matter how she looked at it, her parents and they were in her house.  
  
From then on she tried to turn her mind off, swerving cars and drunks as she hurried to get to their organised meeting point.  
  
  
  
Basically, very short, but I have so much work to do, a party to go to tomorrow and school in a week. Anyway, still hope you guys liked it, and I hope you review, because seriously that is all that gets me to write, without reviews no story I start would get past one chapter.  
  
Anyways, go and read the other three stories, in particular review Mission Impossible cause my friend wrote it and for her birthday tomorrow I'm gonna give her all of her reviews and I cannot do that if you don't write any. 


	17. Shower

Okay, I want to thank all of my reviewers from the last chapter:  
  
Ev, here you go nice and long, hehe, sorry bout the last chapter, I was tired and rushed but this one is over 2000 words and I think you'll enjoy it.  
  
miakaweasley, I was hoping someone would enjoy Jack's little attempted glare, hehe, favourite part of the chapter for me too.  
  
Elaine, I will continue to write this as long as you all find it readable  
  
Intel, hehe, you're such a good reviewer, never miss a chapter, lol, thank you for that  
  
Mandy@TTU, I miss Vuaghn too, but I can't handle him in this fic. As for not being able to keep their hands to themselves, read on...  
  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
Jack spent the next ten minutes trying to drink his coffee and commit every blemish on the carpet to mind. It was, he supposed, the best way to avoid Irina's intent gaze. Not once did he dare to look up, knowing what would happen should he try to glare and knowing there were many traps readily set for him. He took his last sip of coffee and replaced the cup on the table, continuing to scrutinise the ground.  
  
Irina sighed, obviously frustrated with the situation and he heard her stand up. She paused and he could see she had her hands on her hips. He looked up, looking gat her, trying to look dead and uninterested. Surprisingly he managed the empty look quite well and Irina didn't have anything stinging to say, instead telling him, "I'm going to have a shower."  
  
This, of course, caught him off guard, this was most definitely not something he had expected her to decide to do, he could imaging her wanting to play scrabble, wanting to cook, trying to coerce him to bed, anything, but a shower, that he didn't understand. His dead expression gave way to incredulity, "What do you mean?"  
  
Irina raised an eyebrow, knowing what he had meant to ask but choosing to try to bend the conversation to her advantage, still standing, she answered, "Well Jack, a shower usually includes the removal of one's clothes and then the washing of one's skin under steaming water." She paused, seeing him mentally squirming and continued, a small smirk trying to take over her face, "There's usually a lot of steam, a lot of heat, a lot of...pleasure."  
  
He glared at her, managing to mask what he had to admit was something like desire, "Thank you Irina for that entirely unneeded but very vivid description," she smiled innocently, "What I meant to ask was why."  
  
She cocked her head, "The CIA thinks that should I spend any more than two minutes alone with a shower that I'm going to find some way to break out." She shrugged and watched him to see how he would respond.  
  
Jack just leaned forward, picking his empty coffee mug up and saying, "You could have broken out," she grinned, "Couldn't you?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead continuing, "Have a shower, but don't give me any reason to think you're trying to pull something off."  
  
Irina grinned, "You don't think I will try to escape?"  
  
Jack shrugged and stood up, bringing his eyes up to hers and letting them narrow, not in spite but in a tease which he hated himself for displaying, "I don't think you're that stupid."  
  
Irina grinned and turned, heading for the hall down which she presumed she'd find a shower and a towel. Jack just shook his head and wandered into the kitchen, listening intently to see if he could figure out exactly what was going on in the room a couple down from where he was. He placed the two empty cups in the sink and turned around, leaning back onto the bench and concentrating, hard as he could on the sounds.  
  
Elsewhere, Irina opened what she presumed would be a cupboard containing towels and pulled the large green one she saw first out. She smiled mischievously to herself before closing the door hard, eliciting more noise from it that was normal because she knew, quite well, that Jack would be listening, trying to picture her steps in his mind.  
  
She found the bathroom and closed the door, leaving it unlocked in the unconscious hope that Jack would follow her. Her grin only grew as she turned the lights and fan on, realising that the bathroom shared a wall with the kitchen. Flexing her shoulders, Irina let her clothes fall off her, ignoring her own movements and taking her time looking over the room, taking note of the colours, the tidiness, the order. Leaning into the spacious shower, she turned the water on, letting the cold water rise until it was pelting down against her skin, stinging her arm as she tried to get the water hot enough.  
  
The water hit the ground and swirled around, some spitting back up and some turning immediately into steam, rising up and swirling out into the room, around Irina's feet as she stepped in under the hot water, letting it hit her back first, the water only stinging for a moment. She grinned, turning under the water, trying to clean off the feeling only a lack of freedom could cause, she leaned against the wall, subconsciously knowing Jack was on the other side. She smiled at the faint reflection of herself in the glass door that was slowly fogging up with steam.  
  
Turning she let the water over her head, closing her eyes and letting her mouth relax until it was slightly open, tiny drops of water sneaking down her throat. Her hair slowly got wetter and wetter until that was no way it could have become more soaked. She weaved her fingers through it, trying to rid it of the knots that were slowly gathering. She stood like that, leaning against the wall every now and then, her mind empty and her body relaxed for a few minutes longer, knowing she would have to eventually get out and slip back under the mask she always wore.  
  
Begrudgingly she turned the water off, letting the last drips hit her back before opening the door, loudly, trying to make it loud enough for Jack to hear and stepping out, slamming it shut behind her. Looking at herself in the mirror she saw the tiny lines slowly etching into her forehead, tiny, ones that few people would notice, but still there. She smiled, growing old was something she had looked forward to and now she was going to have to do it alone in a prison cell.  
  
Rolling her shoulders she flipped her head to the side and shook her hair, watching the tiny droplets on the ground and wrapping the towel around her head before rubbing it viciously, trying to soak up any loose water. Happy it was relatively dry; she looked up, into the mirror again before wrapping the towel around her body. Letting it cling to her curves, her strong arms remaining loose and unobstructed at her sides, the water glinting on her shoulders and neck.  
  
She was terribly tempted to just walk out the door like that, let him see her like that and know what he would have to do, but whether it was the right thing to do, that was what was causing her to pause. She leaned against the wall, raising a hand to her head and sighing. Standing against the wall she continued to think, her mind revolving over whether teasing Jack was right or not, whether it was fair. A nock at the door startled her.  
  
Jack had listened to her, knowing, but trying not to imagine, as Irina collected a towel, made her way into the bathroom, stripped down and stood under the water. It was fine that she was showering, fine that she was under the water for more than ten minutes, he could tell by the changing pitch of the water on the floor that she was, actually in there and not trying to escape. It was only after she got out and her footsteps ceased, no sounds coming to him and her figure not emerging out of the door to begin another round of banter that his suspicion was aroused.  
  
Quickly, he had walked to the door, tempted to turn the handle and barge in, he stopped himself, realising there was a good chance this was a trap, not so she could kill him, but for him to walk in and find her naked. God knows how he'd handle that, thinking over his thoughts; he figured handle wasn't really the right word. He smothered a grin before knocking.  
  
Jack was shocked to here what appeared to be a scrambling, the kind you hear when you accidentally knock on the door of your daughter and she's doing something she shouldn't be. Jack was ready to open the door when a muffled voice came out, totally uncontrolled but definitely Irina's, "Just a moment."  
  
Jack grinned, his hand resting on the door nob, "What are you doing?" He had to ask, there was a chance she was doing something she shouldn't have and he was not about to let his emotions cloud his judgement.  
  
Irina stopped on the other side of the door, debated over whether she should lock him out or not, she answered, her voice regaining some composure, "Nothing."  
  
Jack's brow creased, that was definitely a lie, but if she was trying to escape or contact someone, why lie so obviously, his hand tightened on the nob, "Irina..." he let his voice trail off.  
  
"Jack," Irina looked around, her hand resting on the door nob, threatening her own mind to lock it, "You really shouldn't come in."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Irina grinned, he'd caught her off guard; that was true, he'd caught her thinking but she still had the upper hand, she was wearing only a towel and should he choose to come in, her composure still mostly lying on the ground, he'd probably be focused on things other than her face. "I'm wearing only a towel."  
  
Jack shook his head, he sincerely doubted she was trying to escape, surely she wasn't that daft, but she was trying to hide, "Irina..." he continued to use her name against, her, much like she did to him. All he had to be sure of, before he opened the door, was that he could stand to see her dressed only in a towel. He tried to conjure the image up, practising his resolve, bare arms, bare legs, worst case she'd chosen a small towel and it was bare from the mid thigh down, bare neck, that was going to be a problem, he grimaced. Bare shoulders, he just hoped she had a firm grip on her towel, he paused another few seconds, wishing her didn't have to do this, but at the same time, looking forward to getting to see her so bare.  
  
Irina would have never thought him bold enough to open the door but he did, flinging it open, her hand slipping from it and falling to her side as she was faced with him, less than a meter away, eyes level with hers but instantly wanting to wander. She grinned, the action unbearably provocative to Jack who was trying to watch her face and not below it. Still, Irina gulped and cocked her head, her whole world, her security riding on the basis that he had to eventually look down and give her a chance to regain some composure, at least enough to fool Jack.  
  
But he didn't, despite the fact that his eyes were begging to move below her neck, he remained focussed, brow deepening and his own head cocking as he saw the openness in her eyes and queried, "What were you doing?"  
  
His voice was so demanding, so powerful she couldn't do much but answer in honesty, her eyes the first to lower and her lips twitching upwards as she used the chance to try to re erect the mask, "I was thinking," she paused, hoping her would say something, "About whether or not it would be fair of me to wander around the house dressed like this," a tiny movement of her head motioned to her dress, sending Jack's eyes finally downward.  
  
Irina grinned, she had told the truth and should he ever think about it, surely he would realise, but right now, he was busy hungrily eying her over. She watched, content, as his eyes swept over her shoulders, his hands dormant, but obviously not happy to be so, at his sides, his brown eyes continued, her neck, down to where the towel began, he looked over it, blatantly admiring her curves before slowing at her legs, starting at mid thigh, just as he had dreaded.  
  
Forcing his gaze back up his voice came out as a rasp, "Why would you think it was unfair?"  
  
She looked at him, eyes narrowed, "You would see it as seduction."  
  
His voice, quickly overlapping hers in haste, "And why would that be unfair?'  
  
She bit her lip, "I have to go back to my cell tonight."  
  
So simple but still he pushed, "If we were to do anything..." he let his voice trail off.  
  
She bit her lip harder, her eyes dipping trying to catch his, "What?"  
  
He smiled, a deep, seductive smile, and she instantly regretted letting him, every time this happened, she forgot he had the same effect on her that she had on him. His lips pursed as he searched for the words, "None of this counts."  
  
A sly grin she hadn't expected from him softened the words and she saw through to what he was grasping at, what he was saying wasn't true, it was transparent excuse and as a hand found its way to the small of her back she grinned and shook her head, quietly muttering, "No, it wouldn't."  
  
Reviews are need ed for more, kidding, lol. 


	18. Talk

Chapter Eighteen  
  
Jack smiled, pulling together what was left of his mind and control, and decided that if he kept talking there was no possible way that this could go anywhere. At least, that was what he hoped, "I mean it Irina, nothing, everything..."  
  
She cut him off, "Nothing and everything?" teasing him, "You can't have both."  
  
Instead of scowling, Jack felt the corner of him lips twitch up as he found the pair about to embark on yet another round of playful banter, "Everything we do, it doesn't mean anything."  
  
She nodded, smiling enough to make sure that Jack understood she knew he was lying through his teeth and reinforcing her thoughts with words, "So what?" she smiled seductively as they continued to stand, perfectly still, in the doorway of the bathroom. Jack's arm wrapped securely around her waist, bringing her dangerously close. "You're not going to put this in whatever report you have to write about the evening?"  
  
Jack just cocked her head, feeling his fingers moving over her back, exploring, if only a few extra centimetres, "I doubt I'll write what happened in the alleyway into my report," he told her.  
  
"And what about now?" she asked.  
  
Jack's eyes narrowed as he sensed the trap, "We haven't done anything."  
  
And that was her cue, predictably, or perhaps not, Irina took her chance, making Jack regret ever opening his mouth, to talk or other wise, as her tongue slipped into his mouth and her lips crashed down on his. Jack didn't pull away, instead trying to slow it all down, letting his hands roam her back as she continued to kiss him, her lips hot and harsh against his.  
  
For a second, Irina wondered if this was the time that fate would make Sydney walk through the door, smiling she pulled back, regaining some, if not much, control. Jack saw the smirk and queried, his breath slightly laboured and short of air, "What?"  
  
Irina watched him for a second, trying to work out what his reaction to their second kiss in as many hours would be, a hesitant smile made her want to answer, so she did, "I was just wondering if Sydney would be unlucky enough to walk in on us."  
  
Jack smiled, but his face soon morphed into a look of worry and confusion. Irina dipped her head to see him better, wondering what the hell she had done wrong this time, seeing her wonder, he told her, "We have to talk."  
  
Swallowing, she agreed with a curt nod, before shutting the door slowly, feeling his hands slip from her back and watching him until she wood blocked her view. Sighing, she leaned back against the door, a smile on her face and a hand to her head. Slowly she pushed away, knowing they only had a limited amount of time before their daughter did return and whatever it was he wanted to talk about had to be forgotten.  
  
With that thought, she turned and was dressed a few minutes later, her hair tied up loosely, tiny tendrils of brown hair left to frame her face, glancing in the mirror, she opened the door and wandered out, finding Jack, sitting on the couch, head on his hands as he glared at the coffee table. This was going to be one of those talks that start bad and end bad. It was now up to Irina to try to make the middle good. Unasked, a little voice in her head defined good with a few vivid pictures.  
  
Hearing her enter the room, Jack looked up and tried to blank out his face, Irina's brow deepened, but she didn't turn back, she was going to sit this through. Sitting down across from him, she leaned in, not to impose, not to be seductive, though she was sure it could have been, but to try to find a way into his mind, or, even better, into his heart. "Jack," she began, letting the word hang matter-of-factly in the air.  
  
"Irina," he continued, looking up and leaning back, watching as she mirrored his movement and silently wondering why, "I don't know why."  
  
Instantly she knew what he meant. "You think I do?" She could have made the words hard and provoking, but instead she made them sympathetic, soft. "I have just as little idea on why any of this happens as you do."  
  
He raised an eyebrow but she realised what he was going to say before he could get it out, "I know that I'm the bad guy, that I lied to you for almost ten years. I agree, I deserve to be punished, but you have to understand a few things," her voice stopped being soft, if she said this with a soft tone she would be far too open to attack, "I was doing it for my country, that's why I took the assignment," she held a hand up as he looked ready to speak. "I came here and I lied to you, that's correct. But I did love you," she was careful to say 'did' and not 'do' because while it was most probably true, he wasn't ready to hear it. The flash of hurt that paraded over his features at the 'did' told her otherwise though. 


	19. Explaining

Okay, well, basically, I am back to school and unable to find the time to write very much, but I will try, you are just going to get used to erratic posting patterns and shorter chapters, though this is pretty good in length considering. So yes, it might be a little confusing, sorry, but review guys and I'll get more up asap!  
  
Chapter Nineteen  
  
Jack waited patiently for her to finish speaking, sitting down and leaning back into the chair as he listened, rolling every word around in his head. Why was she doing this? "Jack, I realise you never plan on forgiving me but at least give yourself the chance to examine what I've done."  
  
Jack rose an eyebrow at her as s he asked what he had though he would never feel compelled to do and then without even realising he was speaking he said, "What is it you expect me to examine?"  
  
She looked at him, lips pursed and head to the side, "I'm giving you a chance to ask me anything you want with a guaranteed honest answer." She paused but seeing that he didn't seem prepared to continue and appeared to have lost the flare from beforehand, she continued, "It's exactly what the CIA has wanted me to let them do since I arrived. But I haven't. You and I both know that I refuse to answer any and every question put to me because once I give you all my knowledge I no longer have any use. But I'm putting that aside right now and no matter what you ask I will try to answer."  
  
Jack doubted that the woman would think twice about lying through her teeth but his heart was begging his mind to at least try it so he started with a simple topic, something that couldn't be made personal. "In nineteen ninety three, there was an assassination." She nodded her head, already knowing what he was talking about. "Jacques De Lou was shot by a sniper from what we believed to be an impossible distance and viewing point. Who shot him and why?"  
  
She smiled, nodding her head a little as she mulled over how to put her thoughts into words, stalling she spoke, "You seem to know the case well, I suspect you believe it was me."  
  
He cut across her, not spite lacing his words, but something different, "The CIA knows it was you, we just want to know how."  
  
Pausing again, "You're right it was me. I shot him from the Wodin Building. Not a hard shot if you are good with a weapon." He raised his eyes in disbelief having been the one to tell his superiors that even he couldn't have made the shot. Seeing this she tried to back her words up, "I had a lot of practice, and the gun was good. Taking a breath she started again, "Are you familiar with a project coded TWT?" A slight nod forced her to continue, "It was important CIA work back in nineteen ninety...someone hacked into the mainframe and got the list of assassins that the CIA had foolishly put together and left available to anyone who wanted it."  
  
Jack's brow creased, "Hang on, that case was closed late that year and there's no account of a hacking, it was simply deemed unneeded and thrown out."  
  
Irina shook her head, smiling, "Surely you didn't straight away accept that. The case was notorious for being top priority and then it was just dropped, all files destroyed?" Jack shrugged and waited for more, not sure what an old case like such had to do with her murdering of De Lou. "Well, the hacker was De Lou and foolishly he didn't make a single copy, instead carrying a hardcopy with him at all times and making sure no one knew he had it, only telling his closest men."  
  
She smiled, "Of course, a week later, rumours were everywhere, indicating that he had a list of failsafe assassins."  
  
Jack snorted, "His right hand men weren't very good at keeping it a secret."  
  
"Story has it that it was De Lou that let it slip, with some French prostitute. Anyway, I found out. The list had perhaps two maybe three assassins that worked independently and were difficult to contact."  
  
Jack cut in, continuing for her, "Not because they didn't want to be known but because it was to difficult to have their names everywhere and not be known by the CIA."  
  
She nodded, appreciating that he was once again able to think along the same lines as her, "Exactly. But now the CIA had their names and so did every crime lord on the planet. They were no longer scared of becoming known as you know."  
  
He nodded, his face becoming serious, "There were that many crime murders those two months that it was shocking. But I never realised that..."  
  
She shrugged, "No one connected it and it was still only Jacques De Lou that had the names, and he was hiring them out by the hand full, one to this friend, another to someone else, and many for himself. He wanted to conquer the world and to do that he had to kill a lot of important people, so he had most of the assassins doing his own work. This meant only ten or twenty ever had their names outside the CIA and him."  
  
Jack's eyes narrowed, "Why is none of this in the case file?"  
  
"The CIA never really realised and if they did they weren't prepared to own up to starting the chain reaction."  
  
He stopped, falling into silence for a while, "You still haven't told me why you shot him."  
  
She bit her lip, she hadn't told him because it meant revealing a weakness and she wasn't up to it, "I don't like chaos. I don't like not being able to calculate an enemy and despite what you think I do not like the idea that murder is for sale and cheaper and more accessible than ever. As I said, most of the assassins he kept to himself..."  
  
Realisation dawned on his face, "You killed him to shut down the string of assassinations?" She nodded, refusing to answer orally, "That doesn't make sense."  
  
"Why not?" she cocked her head further.  
  
"You have murdered people before you're a crime lord. Why would you want to stop assassins?" His look was incredulous and she had to stop herself from flinching back.  
  
"Jack," she wanted to shake him to try to get her message through but knew it wouldn't improve her hopeless odds of ever making him understand, "I killed him so that he wouldn't start of a chain reaction that would cause hundreds of other deaths," he shook his head, "Go and ask one of the old case heads, they'll tell you that the disk was found on him and that assassinations returned almost to normal after that." She watched him as he stared at her, his gaze cold and icy as the conversation reminded him what the woman was capable of. It turned her heart to ice in return and she hissed out, "And I never killed people because I enjoyed it. Never ever think that I'm that villainous again."  
  
"Irina, you're up for twelve counts of murder."  
  
She cut across him, "Yes, all CIA agents, if you hadn't noticed I'm not up for any other crimes but espionage. Might I ask how many Mr Sark is up for?"  
  
Jack thought for a moment, wondering why he hadn't looked at the small number from this angle before, "Your counterpart, should he ever be caught will be charged with the death of twenty three CIA agents and thirty two civilians."  
  
"You see my point?"  
  
He nodded ever so slightly but asked further, adding beforehand, "Remember you have to answer these," she nodded, "Why did you kill those twelve agents?"  
  
She took a breath but didn't have the malevolence to shrug. "The last was killed in nineteen ninety one, over ten years ago. It was less than two years after the KGB had disappeared from my life forever and I was yet to realise. Before that, it was my job. How many KGB agents might one of the now decorated CIA agents have killed in the war? Probably around the same number as I, ten or eleven, it was my job, for my country and had Russia won, it would never be classed as a crime."  
  
His eyes clouded over and she quickly explained, "Don't get me wrong, I'm sorry I killed them, but I didn't kill them for fun of gain, it was my job, you've killed people as well, it's just that your country was the winner."  
  
He could have taken her words for bitterness but chose, instead, to see them as what they were, an explanation, and dropped the subject. Instead, he chose another question from the thousands clouding his mind.  
  
Okay, so yes, this might have been confusing and a little unshippy compared to prior work, but I needed some explanations so that's what I wrote. Please review guys, it's what makes me wanna write. 


	20. Anger

Okay guys, thanks a lot for reviewing, here is some more, tomorrow is school but perhaps I'll write anyways, Keep reviewing.  
  
I'm quite disappointed with the reviews for this one But thanks you to:  
  
NYPDliz, I'm glad you enjoy it.  
  
Intel, thank you for reviewing  
  
Nuitbyrd, thanks, don't worry, I'm going to return to shippiness asap, but, um, well, read this, sorry...  
  
Alexleia Parker, thanks you very much, I apprieciate it.  
  
Irina Bristow, glad you like it.  
  
X, well, you won't read this for a while, but thanks for reading and reviewing so well.  
  
Chapter Twenty  
  
He decided to ask a question a tad more probing, yet still related to work. This way there was no way he could be accused of caring, "What about Mr Sark? How does he fit in with all of your plans?"  
  
Her brow creased but she didn't hesitate in answering, "I found Mr Sark while in England, he was intelligent, genius almost. He had my own cocky manner, possibly worse, my own sharp tongue, the prospects were irresistible, so I hired him." Jack nodded, leaning back, "That was, what, four years ago, he would have only been around eighteen then but he knew what he wanted from life and."  
  
Jack cut across her quickly, seeing an opening for something worth talking about, "And what is it he wanted from life?"  
  
"Mr Sark was looking for a challenge. I gave him one." He nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, "Since then, he travelled with me everywhere, ran my operations, kept an eye on things. Very useful man." She saw the reaction, there was no way to miss it when she was watching so carefully, the flash of what she knew to be jealousy that flashed over Jack's face. "We were very close."  
  
She bit harder at the wound, expecting him to question her further on him but was left disappointed when instead he switched topics, "And what of your other right hand men?"  
  
She grinned, knowing perfectly well why he was asking, she decided to entertain him, "Oh, well, there have been many, Cuvee, Khasinau, Sark, De Lou, hundreds of others." His face fell visibly and her grin grew. "All very nice men."  
  
"That's not what I've heard." His voice was surprisingly unlike what she'd expected. Gruff and blatantly jealous.  
  
This only caused her own reaction and words to be completely out of her chosen character and quite unexpected, by both, "Calm down jack, they were all morons or half my age in the case of Sark." She winked playfully, pulling herself up and moving into the kitchen. Jack just sat, watching the space she had occupied moments before his mouth hanging open. "Wine?" came her voice.  
  
"Yeah, thanks." Jack pushed off the chair and crossed to where she had managed to scrounge some wine and was now pouring it into two glasses. Taking one he watched her carefully. He was falling further and further, there was no chance of recovery now, he had only to let go and be swept away. She'd managed to lull him into a calm state of being that included him acting happy and contented around her, as though she were still his wife. Then he remembered she was.  
  
"If it matters at all to you," Irina started, her voice serious and hushed, "I was never in love with any of them." For a moment he wondered what she was talking about but then he realized that she knew he knew about her and Khasinau, about her and Cuvee and she thought she'd hurt him once again. About to disagree with her he stopped, realizing that she had, again actually hurt him.  
  
Forcing a smile he turned away, turning to look out the window. "Jack?" her voice, hesitant and so unlike what he needed to hear. "Never, ever did I love them."  
  
"You think I can trust you," his voice bit at her and it was obvious as he turned to face her. His yell came out harsher than he wanted but there was no taking it back.  
  
"What?" Her voice was astoundingly hurt, taken aback and shrunk as Irina tried to make sense of his sudden motive to attack. Realizing he had none, she did what she did best and attacked back. "Don't think I'm doing this for you?"  
  
"Doing what?" he asked through clenched teeth, the anger evident.  
  
"Talking, saying anything. None of this is for you." Her answer hit him across the face like the back of her hand and it only caused him to become angrier.  
  
"I wouldn't expect you to say anything for any reason other than your own gain." A slight pause while he gathered his thoughts then, "When you first came back, turned yourself in, I told everyone you were an opportunistic sociopath, that you would try to weasel your way into Sydney's heart. But you know what, I was wrong, you're trying it with me instead. You think I'm a challenge, lying and attacking me is your fun. It's disgusting playing with someone's emotions like that." He probably would have gone if her hand hadn't connected with his jaw with a lighting- like strike.  
  
"You bastard." And she ran from the room. For a second, he thought she was going to leave the house in which case he had an excuse to shoot her, his gut wrenched at the thought, but then turned left and ran down the hall, probably heading for Sydney's bedroom or a bathroom. Either way she was out of the way for the moment.  
  
He raked a hand through his hair, suddenly aware of what he had seemingly done. A few minutes before they had been talking, almost like a happy couple and now, now, well, look at them. He growled, downing the glass of wine before moving around the kitchen aimlessly. Why had he reacted? He was determined to think this through properly, with a clear mind; of course this was difficult because all he wonder about was what he'd done and the stinging sensation crossing his cheek.  
  
When had it changed from content to rage, it should have been obvious but it took him a while to pinpoint the stage. Her words, "Never, ever did I love them." That was what had made him angry, what had set him off, but why. It was obvious to everyone else looking it and even his heart was screaming the answer, but it took him an extra few minutes of stalking around the living area to realize.  
  
When he did he knew what he had to do and he turned, looking towards the hall, ready to do it.  
  
Well? What do you guys think? 


	21. Morbid or not

I hope you guys like this chapter; you've all been great at reviewing so far so keep it up. Go check out my other fics too, they're just as good as this one. Promise.  
  
Chapter Twenty One  
  
Irina slammed the door, perhaps hating herself more than anyone else. She was acting like a fool; she was a super spy and yet this one, single man had been able to get a reaction out of her. Not a reaction she wanted to give either. She'd been hasty and compulsive and she was never either of them. She had hit him hard but, of course, had she actually wanted to hurt him, to inflict pain, she would have simply kicked him into unconsciousness instead of what she was now deeming an overly feminine slap to the face. She fell down on the bed, refusing to collapse completely and instead just sitting on the edge, hands on either side of her body.  
  
He truly had been cruel and she was used to that, in her line of work, cruelty was a necessity, it was a way of life, it was, had been, her way of life. But Jack had never before been cruel to her, to anyone for that matter that didn't deserve it. She let the incredulous grin creep onto her face; she did deserve cruelty, she probably deserved death. She took a deep breath, not used to being this angry.  
  
Life with Jack had been fake, she knew that, she'd believed that even he had sometimes felt that there was something missing from the relationship; she supposed it had been love, but she had never been sure and she still wasn't. She had loved him, that had never been a question, but it wasn't that 'no-lies, no-secrets' kind of love, there were too many secrets, too many lies, perhaps that had been what had been missing, she could never be sure it now appeared. Her thoughts would have continued but for a nock at the door.  
  
Her brow creased at the noise because it definitely wasn't Jack, the soft rapping of the wood had been hesitant and never in her life had she known him to be hesitant at anything. Quickly taking in the other possibilities, she realized it must have been Sydney home and rose to open it.  
  
Of course, on the other side of town, Sydney was busy giving Francie her key and would, twenty minutes later, call home to tell them she'd be another hour as she'd run into and old friend and couldn't really come up with an excuse for not getting back sooner. But Irina didn't know that, she expected Sydney to be on the other side of the door and wandering over she began to pull her composure out of the gutter and reassemble it around her.  
  
A second, less timid, knock made her pause, wondering what to say to her daughter who would, no doubt, have a few questions regarding what had happened in her absence. That one second's pause made sure that Jack voiced his presence, forcing Irina to realize it was he and not their daughter outside the door, "Irina, are you in there?"  
  
For a second she contemplated fleeing out the window, she was certain she could be out of the country in less than an hour but she wasn't sure that that was really an option. Her second thought was to just jump out the window and make her way back to her cell; of course this was going to be difficult considering she had no idea where it was her cell actually was. Her last and final option was to stay put and that was exactly what she chose to do; remaining on the bed, but rearranging herself to look away from the door, back straight and legs crossed.  
  
Her aim was to seem nonchalant, this wouldn't work considering the single tear stain that she hadn't noticed there, but she was prepared to give it a shot. Jack knocked again, hesitance gone, worry appearing. "Irina, are you in there?"  
  
She pursed her lips, grappling to hold a smug grin to her mouth as she lets her eyelids shut. She refused to answer.  
  
"Irina..." he asked again and she had to wonder why he hadn't just stormed in, surly by now he would suspect she had run for it and would have his phone out ordering she be shot on sighting. But he hadn't, theories of her running were gone, he just couldn't see her doing it and all he could think about now was what if something had happened, what if, for some inane reason, he never got to talk to her again, and that was what made him throw the door open.  
  
"Irina," her back was to him, nothing given away except the overwhelming tension that oozed around them both and the slightly ridged back. He walked in two more steps before stopping, letting the door swing shut behind him as his brow deepened and he watched her from behind. He was about to speak when her voice cut through.  
  
Crisp and sterile, it was like the bed in the hospital that had been filled with a dying man the day before but was now as white and placid as ever, "You're right Jack. You are a challenge, difficult to get into, harder to get out of. But you have to admit I did it, ten years I did it, I used you like I used everyone else and you didn't even realize what was happening, not until I was gone. And now I am back and I will do it again, this time, you won't let me near enough to do any harm, but Sydney, she's gullible, she might."  
  
She had to stop there before her voice cracked, line after line of lies, it made her sick to her stomach but it was distancing him, it would only make him hate her more and that was what was best if all he was going to do was accuse her of crimes which were never meant to be committed.  
  
Behind her, Jack's brow creased and for a second, he believed that what he had been thinking had truly been a mistake. But he didn't freak out, didn't take it as face value and for once he was lucky he over- analyzed because once he slid his mind underneath her words he heard the uncalled for edge, the faint tang of bitterness that shouldn't have been there and the rush she was in to get the words out.  
  
He nodded, knowing there was little chance of her seeing him, instead doing it to reassure himself that he was, indeed, right. Now all that was left to do was get her to listen and what better way than with words and games. He bit his lip before starting.  
  
"Look, Irina I would really appreciate it if you would turn around and listen to what I have to say."  
  
She sat rigidly still for a few moments, debating over what to do. If she chose to turn around, she would obviously be leaving herself open for attack but should she choose to continue to look at the opposite wall there was no chance he would believe she truly was indifferent and unaffected by the discussion. Sighing heavily, she swung around, letting her legs hang off the bed and her hands sit dormant at her sides. "What?"  
  
"Good," Jack muttered, more to himself than to her. He took a deep breath and began, "Trying to tell me that I'm right, that you really are here to get to me, to betray us all, is useless. For a few good reasons." He smiled, trying to inject humour into the conversation but Irina's firm scowl not budging; obviously twenty years with only increasingly dark and morbid humour had ruined him.  
  
"Firstly, it's a blatant lie, I can see that, anyone with half a brain could see that. And secondly, you know full well that I see it as my job to disagree with everything and anything you say." Her lips didn't twitch up but Jack didn't miss the slight cocking of her head and a change in composure. "So we'll pretend you ever said any of that."  
  
"Jack, you're being stupid." Her voice was still crisp and sterile but that was a faint shake to it that no one would have noticed unless they were expecting it and he was.  
  
"Maybe," he responded, not ready to argue over arguing, "But I want to say something."  
  
She grinned, smirking at him and shaking her head, "You sound like you're going to propose."  
  
And that was the first sign to her that things were no longer in her control; his back straightened and his eyes slid immediately from hers to everywhere else in the room. He breathed out through his nose, "Will you listen?"  
  
"Make it quick, I want to go back to my cell."  
  
"Hypothetically," he saw her eyes widen, but continued, "what would you want me to do if you told me you loved me?" He was turning this around, he expected her to answer but there wasn't any answer that was safe, not one and to remain silent was suicide, she was about to start gabbling and, if the situation got out of hand, kick him hard and run, but he saved himself from the pain and continued, his words quick and slippery as he tried to not look her in the eye. "I mean...what if I told you...that I loved you?"  
  
A pause, then again he started, not even giving her the chance to answer, "Hypothetically, if I told you, would you be happy, sad, angry, scared? What? Because at the moment, I think I might know the...hypothetical...answer. Irina," saying her name didn't help either of them, "When you reappeared, I wanted you dead." She flinched and despite the fact that this pained him, he was also granted a peek at the idea that perhaps he was right and was not about to make a huge fool out of himself, "I did, I'd compartmentalised for twenty years and I was ready to see you, another enemy of the United States, die. You weren't a person; you were an enemy, a bad guy as our daughter would say."  
  
Irina stared at him, wondering why he was doing this, but she didn't speak. "This feeling didn't last, before I'd even spoken to you, when all I'd seen was you, pacing your little cell without any sound of you, no smell, no taste, I hadn't even been in the same room as you, I found myself unbearably hungry." Even the great and infamous Irina couldn't keep her feelings, her confusion, under wraps at that and Jack was pleased to see her swallowing, her brow creeping lower as nothing seemed to make sense.  
  
"Yeah, stupid I know. And now, even though I am not supposed to and I'm not allowed to and I've told myself I don't. I'm not going to deny it any more. Now there are several very important issues we need to discuss but right now, I just want to make something entirely understandable; completely clear." He paused, not sure how to put it, not sure what he was saying was making any sense or even if she was listening, her face now blank and her eyes phased out and looking down at the ground, away from his, denying him access.  
  
"Irina," he tried to grab her attention back and immediately her eyes were back up, on the same level as his, blown clashing with brown. "In a way," he began carefully, "You're one of the few people that seems to think along with me, you understand me, which I suppose was your job, but you do, surprisingly well and that's unusual." He bit his lip, this wasn't making sense, so he opted to just try to give it to her in one simple sentence. "Irina, hypothetically or not, I want you...I mean, I..."  
  
He would have gone had the phone not rung, but it did and not just hypothetically.  
  
Reviews please, this is also very close to finishing so please make sure that you tell me what you think. 


	22. It's our daughter's kitchen

Nice long, yummy chapter.  
  
Chapter Twenty two  
  
Jack put the phone back onto the receiver with as little noise as possible. It had been Sydney, she wasn't returning for another hour. It wasn't, he decided such a bad thing and told her not to worry about them. Turning now, he wondered what they were to do from there. Irina, his wife, was standing in the door frame, hair cascading around her face, shoes missing for some unknown reason and arms crossed as she watched him with scrutiny he felt he didn't deserve.  
  
Having nothing left to say and no way of continuing on from before, he waited, raising an eyebrow at her when she made no move to pick up conversation. Staring at each other, it was several minutes before she spoke, her words carefully rehearsed and perfectly fluid, "Why are you telling me this?"  
  
Jack stared at her, not entirely understanding the question but content to take his best shot at answering. "Because you have the right to know."  
  
"I'm a prisoner of your country. I have no rights."  
  
He nodded, accepting her rebuttal, "Because I wanted you to know."  
  
She nodded, "And what is it you expect me to do now?"  
  
His eyes narrowed as he sensed her anger, her unbridled and uncalled for anger, "I've already explained and we have already discussed this Irina, I want you to have some kind of response instead of acting indifferent and at best angry. What is wrong now?"  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, letting her previously crossed arms to her side, "What's wrong? Jack, in a few hours I have to be back in my cell, I have to go back to having nothing to lose and you want to spring this on me now?"  
  
"What? You're trying to say that I'm doing this to upset you?" His voice rose almost indistinguishably but she caught it and rose hers in accord.  
  
"Jack, I'm saying that telling me this is stupid." She watched him from across the room, the kitchen bench still between them, "I'm pointing out that saying anything like this is worthless."  
  
"Worthless?"  
  
"Yeah Jack it's a waste of time."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Without realising that she was no longer the one asking the questions, Irina obliged Jack with an answer, "Because tomorrow...." But what was her answer. Suddenly she realised she had none and quickly resorted back to anger, "Jack this discussion isn't real. Nothing we can ever say to each other can ever be real or useful or productive and it most definitely cannot be worth doing."  
  
"You honestly believe that Irina?"  
  
She shrugged before nodding. "Yeah. There's nothing else for me to believe."  
  
"You think nothing I say means anything? I don't believe that you can say that. I mean I walk in there and tell you, not the other way around, which it should have been, I just walk in to you, a prisoner of the United States, a woman who lied to me for ten years, a woman who ruined me and made me." He paused looking at her but saw nothing. "I walked into a room with her and I told her that I loved her and all she'll do is tell me it's worthless? I love you and you think that it's a waste of time making that clear?"  
  
Her eyes widened and she was forced to pause and not look mad as even she was not capable of a straight face when the one man she'd thought could never say it said it. Her shock was taken for hesitation and Jack quickly turned to the sink, hanging his head as he realised that there was both nothing left to say and nothing left to hide. Without more hesitation, more of a chance for Jack to regret something that she had caused and something that could be undone, Irina crossed; her feet silent to stand tentatively behind Jack.  
  
Stupidly his was the one time in his life that Jack's training failed him and he failed to notice her presence mere millimetres behind him. It was all she could do not to grab him and make him understand and the only thing preventing her was the thirst, the addiction she now had to his words, sometimes harsh but always a type of prose she felt she would never tire of, so she made her breathing shallow and didn't lay a hand on his shoulder, instead waiting, listening to everything he thought and said.  
  
He honestly hadn't thought that she had moved an inch, neither emotionally or physically and so his anger only served to fill his voice with raspy emotion, "Damn it Irina, I love you and what you don't understand is that while I can tell everyone I hate you, while I can tell myself that I hate you, there isn't any way that I can ever be happy like that. I love you damn it and I hate myself for it, but.I hate you at the same time and I should be able to deal with this but I can't and no matter what I do with my mind, with my emotions, with you, I always end up head over heels in love with you."  
  
There was perhaps more to come but Irina's hunger for his words soon evolved into a different hunger and she had to act, because that was how she operated, she went on instinct. So she did. And Jack, who had thought he was miles away from her, that she was standing across the room, rolling her eyes and treating him like a fool, effected naught by her words was pulled back to a reality he felt was a dream by the pair of lips he now had stuck in his mind.  
  
Having his back to her presented Irina with both pros and cons, but in the end, being an optimist, she decided the idea of him leaned over a bench to be positive and took her time finding the perfect place to launch her attack. Her was wearing, still a shirt, had there been the skin of his shoulder or back, she would have started there, but there wasn't so she went for the next best thing; the nape of his neck. Just above the collar of his shirt, where the greying hair met his skin, Irina knew was an area to be played with, from there she was to tired to work out, this wasn't a mission, this was an adventure and to her this was all the difference in the world.  
  
Her lips were silky smooth, perfectly proportioned and when positioned on his neck, Jack's knees went weak and it was all her could do to stay upright as her hands came up over his shoulders, working symmetrically into his hair on either side of his head, her lips still kneading at his neck working seductively in a way he'd never experienced. For a second, his mind yelled the normal warnings, to back off, to ignore her, but he couldn't listen to them, didn't want to listen to them and as Irina's hands started to put pressure on him, trying to persuade him to turn, he had little trouble obliging and shutting the voices up once and for all.  
  
He had to wonder if he would ever, ever get sick of her, she was truly outstanding and kissing her wasn't something anyone was ever going to be able to get sick of. He let his hands go to her hair, tangling in the mass of brown everyone silently admired, his lips meeting hers in a rushed frenzy as she let her own hands travel down his back and around to the sides of his waist, trying to slow the kiss but failing miserably as he continued to kiss her hard and passionately, only pausing for quick breaths during which their eyes would lock and their worlds would turn another hundred and eighty degrees.  
  
Finally she forced his lips from hers, wanting to make sure he understood, wanting to be able to speak and not just into his mouth. Smiling in triumph as his lips drew back and she had the chance to take a deep, ragged breath, ready to speak when she realised that he was again grinning, the look wonderfully bright as his mouth repositioned to concentrate on her throat. She sighed, knowing there was little chance of her being able to force him off and just hoping that he could multi task for the duration of what she had to say.  
  
Keeping her voice under control, she concentrated on what she wanted to make him believe, she tried to ignore his ever attentive lips. "Jack," he hummed his question of 'yes?" against her neck, whether on purpose or because he knew that it would send chills up and down her spine, she didn't know but none the less she pushed on. "You love me?" Humming again she reminded herself not to ask questions, it was only to cause distraction. "I need you to understand that this is not going to be easy. It will be anything but."  
  
He pulled back for a second and for a moment she thought, hoped he would stop the delicious torture and listen, but he only smiled before changing sides and leaving new trails down the other side. "Jack." No response and she sighed exasperated, her breath being mistaken for one of pleasure which it very well may have been and only encouraging Jack. "Jack," she said more demandingly and finally go this attention, though his response was not what she had expected.  
  
"Say it," he tempted her, "I want to hear you say it because I swear to god if you don't say it." he waited, watching her shocked expression before moving his lips back to her neck and then lower, dangerously lower.  
  
She shook her head, kissing the top of his head as his lapping and sucking continued, growing in intensity. "Jack," she didn't wait for an answer, "I love you too. Always have."  
  
He stopped, not looking up, the words surprisingly shocking to him but only spurring him on. Irina, on the other hand, finally had a chance to think straight, wonder what to do next, without the distraction of her husband's lips. Her momentary chance was just that, only momentary, and soon Jack's eyes were coming up to level with hers, his lips twitching as the two admissions, put together, both of them having admitted what they'd promised they would never speak of again, adding another dimension to the relationship.  
  
She watched, intrigued by the unexperienced look of playfulness and desire that took Jack's face and so saw his actions a moment before he acted them out, perfectly and with the superb actions that she knew only he had. His hands were strong as they moved from her hair to her waist, swiftly and obviously with cause, his eyes, they never left hers as he lifted her, easily and yet so carefully up off her feet so that she truly was flying and no longer just feeling that way.  
  
His actions became quicker as his lips began to hunger for hers and his care decreased as he slammed her down onto the bench opposite, her back hitting the creamy cupboards with a bang her legs forced apart from the impact. Always the gentleman, or at least he liked to think so, Jack made sure he hadn't broken anything and the reward for his curiosity was a look he'd wanted to see forever but truly hadn't; a look of pure trust, of pure hunger and need. Something Irina hadn't been able to give him as Laura but now could.  
  
He kissed her again, pulling back quickly to lick his lips, taking her in, drinking her like a thirsty man drinks water, in gulps but still trying to savour every drop. She smiled, subconsciously licking her own lips, tasting Jack and dinner, the wine and everything else as she took the time to memorise the place, the time. He leaned in again, stepping forward to stand as close as he could get, kissing her more roughly, forcing her back onto the hard surface of the cupboard, her hands leaving his back to brace herself on the bench top.  
  
The cold hard surface brought her hurtling back to reality and she was quick to wind her hands up between them and push him back forcefully, "Jack," she told him sternly as he ducked back in for another kiss. "No."  
  
"What?" he asked his breath still short and his words hoarse, "Please do not tell me you don't want to."  
  
"No," she giggled as his lips ducked back to her neck and she was forced to push him off, crawling off the bench top and walking around to the other side of the bench that bordered the kitchen with the lounge room. "But I have to point out that this is Sydney's house."  
  
Realisation dawned on his face and he nodded his face turning a shade of red which caused her to point out the more obvious facts, "And that is her bench. That is where she makes dinner, I don't think she would appreciate coming to find us." she trailed off, vivid images clouding her mind unbidden.  
  
"Find us what?" he tempted, leaning over the counter and trying, but failing to grab Irina's lips in another kiss.  
  
She smiled, moving back as he swiped at her, "Trust me, she wouldn't appreciate it."  
  
He nodded, "Yeah, but we have at least half an hour."  
  
"Jack," She said as he leaned once more over the bench, eventually beginning to climb on, "We can't. It wouldn't be fair."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"We'd have to tell her and that's just wrong."  
  
He grinned at her, "One last kiss, then I'll behave."  
  
She shook her head, leaning over to where he sat atop the bench, planning on a light kiss to the lips but ending up kissing for well over the needed time. Forcing back she grinned. "Jack, you have two choices and I put them to you now. We can either spend this time talking, maturely about mature things. Or you can try and fail, I might add, to coerce me into sleeping with you."  
  
He grinned down at her, "Don't call it that."  
  
"What?"  
  
"With you and me, it's making love." He grinned, lifting a finger to trail a line from her forehead down, over her nose, her lips, down her neck, her chest, to her abdomen, stopping at the firm and toned muscles. "But you're right," he whispered into her ear from behind, his hand laying flat on her stomach. "Sydney would be hugely upset to come home and find us doing anything but screaming."  
  
She smiled, knowing the game and enjoying playing it with one of such a grand mind, "Ah, but there's no guarantee we wouldn't be screaming."  
  
He stopped, misunderstanding for a moment before realising the joke and blushing red. "We really need to put some distance between us." He paused, letting his hand drop from her skin and turned her around, kissing her tenderly on the nose, "You're right, we should talk."  
  
She nodded, leaving his side and moving to sit, her legs coiled beneath her on a cream couch. She was careful to choose a one seater, not sure conversation would be much should he choose to sit beside her. He sat down, obediently across from her, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands, his eyes wide and ready for talk.  
  
Silence, though, reigned for the first few minutes, both just enjoying watching each other, taking in the tiny flecks of change about the other, memorising the other's eyes, their new mannerisms and just sharing a smile every few seconds. Eventually though, Irina started, "What do you want to discuss?"  
  
Well, what do we think? This is almost done as well and I really do love you guys for reviewing and you are so good at it. 


	23. Discussing Sydney

Strife's LMNT, thank you so much for reviewing so many chapters, I really apprieciate it and can't wait until you catch up with everyone else. Keep reviewing I love it.  
  
antonia , thanks for the compliment, I do my best to keep everything going. See what you think of this chapter.  
  
Rory, I can promise you that all my stories end happily, thanks for reviewing, glad it was a nice pick me up. I haven't seen that episode yet cause I live in Australia.  
  
Lourdes, thanks for reviewing, I hope that you enjoy this latest chapter  
  
X , I have to admit, jack and Irina are my favs, to watch and to write. Keep reviewing, you've always been loyal and I appreciate it.  
  
Chapter Twenty Three  
  
She watched him carefully as the pair searched for an answer, time was slipping by them unnoticed as they revelled in the fact that they could sit in the same room, breath the same air, talk, discuss without any feelings of hatred, of disdain flowing either way. Eventually he raised his head and answered the question, a single word tumbling from his lips to begin a tirade of thoughts in Irina's mind, "Sydney."  
  
"Ah," she whispered, snuggling further into the creamy couch across from him. He was, at the same time, so far away and yet within her reach. He was relaxing, she could see that, snuggling back further as she was, his legs crossed beneath the coffee table where their cups sat un-needed and growing cold. "Our daughter." And she stopped, allowing him to continue, not wanting to intrude when the conversation was already so delicate and new.  
  
"You asked her what part she played in the thanksgiving day play." he trailed off, thinking deeply, she knew, and with a smile playing at his lips. "Watching her up there, al she did was remind me of you, she was overly confident."  
  
Irina scoffed, leaning across to lay a hand on his knee and he quickly reassured her, "No, not in a bad way. Now that I think about it, her growing up to have your qualities would be a good thing."  
  
"I'm not sure how it is you managed to see my confidence in a turkey." Irina added, feeling slightly better that he had not been turning to the dark topic of their past and instead appeared to simply want to discuss their daughter.  
  
He watched her, his eyes meeting hers with a jolt above the coffee table and a smile appearing as he answered, "She strutted around the stage as though she owned the place and she was, as she's told you I believe, the only turkey not killed and eaten. That's definitely a reflection of you."  
  
"And what about the Christmas plays?" Irina continued, glad that Jack wasn't trying to seduce her back to less conversational activity as she was sure she would not have been able to resist. "Did she ever play a part?"  
  
"In the one straight after you left," he stopped as her hand left his leg, the heat finally ebbing, "She played an elf and she was not very impressed with the part."  
  
"I can understand that," Irina added, her tone turning to mock- serious, "Elves are not nearly as important as turkeys."  
  
Jack nodded, "It was the last play she ever performed in, as far as I know. She was young then, but she was beautiful." He looked away, wistful at the lost time.  
  
Again, Irina felt the pang that she was forced to acknowledge every time her daughter was mentioned and she too looked down as she quietly added, "You did better than I expected at raising her."  
  
He shook his head forcefully, "I did a horrible job, I was never home, never showed that I cared." He shook his head, wondering what had happened to the fun conversation he had been aiming for, "I was a failure as a father."  
  
Irina shook her head, her accent again showing as passion rose, "No, you did well. You had every excuse to mourn and to act like you did. She's grown into a beautiful young woman. You did well and I thank you for that."  
  
They stopped in talk for a while, their eyes moving about the room, every few seconds coming back to meet the other's gaze as both Jack and Irina reminisced over the loss they'd both experience, they'd both had to live. Watching her, jack no longer felt the contempt, but the regret, that was still present and present to an unusual extent. Seeing Jack staring, Irina grinned and he found himself giving in to the compulsion to grin back. "What?" he asked.  
  
Dipping her head, Irina answered softly and with a wave of her hand, " It's nothing." He raised his eyebrows and waited for her to elaborate. Smiling, she did, "I was just thinking that Sydney has the same taste in furniture as you."  
  
His eyebrows now creased, dipping low as he glanced around the room, his eyes going form one piece to another, searching for some significance. After a while he reluctantly brought his brown eyes back to hers, waiting for her chastisement. She clucked her tongue, shaking her head, "I can't believe you would forget."  
  
He glared at her again racking his brain as he tried to work out what she meant. Mentally, he checked over everything, each room she'd seen and every little thing around them but there was nothing that stood out, "What? I have no idea."  
  
Sighing she stood, wandering around to the back of the couch, inside shocked by what she was ready to do and yet relishing the feel of his eyes on her. Jack just watched helplessly as she wandered, her feet moving over the ground in like she was flying to behind the couch. Carefully, she lifted an eyebrow as she ran a finger from one end of the couch to the other, trying her best to keep a straight face.  
  
Irina watched as Jack's eyes widened, his face turning the faintest shade of pink that only she was trained to notice, "Yes, now it's all coming back. It hurts me deeply to think that you could forget."  
  
He chuckled deeply, turning to look more closely at the fabric. "You're right though," he told her, "it's the exact same."  
  
"When was it again?" she asked.  
  
It was obvious to him that she was testing him, trying to see if he remembered and strangely enough, he felt that should he answer her properly, he would deserve a reward and so he began. "I believe," she grinned at him from behind the couch, her body slouching over it in what anyone would have had to have called the most seductive pose you could muster with only a couch and this made him hesitate as his mind emptied of real words. "It was Sydney's first Christmas. Our first as a family. You'd put her to bed and it was just getting dark."  
  
She grinned, leaning further over and breathing deeply as his talk made images flood her mind. "Go on."  
  
"What is it you want me to say?"  
  
"What you remember," she saw the smirk and read the words before they'd left his lips, putting a stop to them, "And once again, Sydney's house, no demonstrations, please."  
  
"You weren't wearing shoes," he began, "No socks, but I believe and I might be wrong, you were wearing a stunning shade of red on your toes." Irina nodded, only remembering such details as he pointed them out. "Black pants, blue shirt." he paused, lifting his hand to count on his fingers, "Eight buttons."  
  
Again smiling she pointed out, "How do I know you're not making this all up?"  
  
Jack looked taken aback, the emotions false as he smiled at her, "I'm shocked that you don't recall as well as I."  
  
She shook her head, standing up behind the couch and moving to the window. Facing outwards, she closed her eyes, knowing Jack was watching her, she quickly tried to grab an image from the night that involved them both totally clothed. Finding one she explained, "You were wearing a pair of jeans," he nodded behind her, "You never wear jeans any more. A shame, they suit you."  
  
She turned to find him watching her, just as she had surmised. She took a few steps closer, instantly regretting it as his eyes lit up and she caught the familiar glint. But still, she had the need to win, to be the one to bring the most to the conversation and so she added, "The shirt you were wearing, white, if I recall, no buttons."  
  
She watched as he shook his head, her own face blank as she hid the laughter from there eyes, "No," he pointed out, "There were buttons,"  
  
"I was referring," she told him, "To the number of buttons left after our encounter."  
  
He grinned, knowing he'd been beaten. "The baby, Sydney, little tiny, what we had hoped would be a quiet Sydney, always did have a way of interrupting us," he added, his eyes should have been glazed as he remembered but were instead slipping down his wife's figure. "Her cries were the loudest in the neighbourhood  
  
Both looked to the door where she should have entered on cue and as they looked back at each other couldn't suppress the laughter as they again acknowledged the fact that they were in their daughter's house, madly wanting to make out. "And how many buttons did I have left?" Irina questioned.  
  
"All but one," Jack told her immediately. "Which, I remind you, I accidentally broke off. I do apologise for that, it was a lovely shirt."  
  
"You were undoing them with your teeth, there were bound to be a few incidences." They stared at each other, the images suddenly flaring up at a direct mention of their actions and they found themselves unable to speak.  
  
Biting her lip she told him, "Stay there."  
  
Staring at her, he didn't have to ask 'why'. Flexing her back she walked towards him, intent on stopping herself should their actions go too far and onto something that truly would damage their daughter's mind, she let her eyes continue to search his as she stopped. One foot either side of his legs, she sat down in his lap, feeling his hands go immediately to her back as she observed the way his lips curled up in triumph, getting what he wanted.  
  
She leaned in slowly, wanting to savour the kiss and try to keep the passion at bay. Gently she kissed him, his lips opening but hers denying him access and instead veering away to kiss his jaw and then down his neck. He smiled into her hair, not doubting she would eventually return to his own mouth and only regretting the loss for a moment as he enjoyed the feel of her lips on his skin.  
  
Opening her mouth she noticed his fingers as they began to trace tiny shapes, circles, squares, squiggles through the material onto her back and she quickly moved lower, kissing him with hot, wet open mouthed kisses on the shoulder before moving upwards to kiss and nip at the soft flesh beneath his ear.  
  
A soft moan told her she was doing her job and she revelled in the fact along with his hands as they moved to the top of her thighs to continue his symmetrically perfect movements onto her legs. Noting that his mouth was now on her own shoulder she quickly moved back, her lips leaving his skin but his not hers as she addressed him, "Jack," he made no move to assure her he had heard except to bite tenderly at the hollow at the base of her neck. "Jack." No response and so she took matters into her own hands and quickly, but surly pinched him, hard and was rewarded with the appropriate yelp. "Jack."  
  
"What?" he asked, somehow not amused by her actions.  
  
"It's already been explained why we can't do this."  
  
"You initiated," he answered as he moved in to kiss at her jaw quickly again.  
  
"Still, we can't."  
  
"Why not?" He mumbled against her skin, his hands grasped firmly at her hips to keep her from moving away. "We've both got good hearing, we'll hear her come in."  
  
"And what if she sees us?" Irina countered, her hands, quite by themselves moving up his back to survey the lightly curved muscles.  
  
"She'll deal with it."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes," he told her, backing his statement up defiantly as he bit down again on her neck, eliciting a whimper that bordered on pain and pleasure as her nails dug into his back. Sadly, the bite was hard enough that she thought it capable of leaving a mark which, Irina and Jack both very much hoped would go unnoticed by everyone involved.  
  
"No," she said, her words getting quieter and quieter as Jack's hands and mouth worked their magic well. It was inevitable that they go somewhere from where they were and there were really only three possibilities, Sydney burst forth through the door and nothing happen, they behave like mature adults and ignore what ever fibre of their beings was urging them to do and just talk or... Jack leaned in to kiss at her ear, licking tenderly despite her dwindling protests. Her hands reached lower, down to the small of his back and a soft moan escaped her lips.  
  
"We could," he suggested, the mixture of his words, his voice and his breath in her ear making her relax further and not hesitate in her response...  
  
Okay, guys, I know that I'm getting worse at updating, but I'm not that bad, and school is a real pain in the ase. Anyways, I've tried hard and written you some more but reviews aren't coming in very quickly and there isn't much motivation so, thank you to those who do review and I urge all of you people who read this to tell me and all other writers whose work you read, exactly what you think. So yes, please review. 


	24. Another phone call

Chapter Twenty Four  
  
Sydney was on the other side of town, just getting into her car, throwing the bag she'd seen and just had to purchase in before her. The rain was pouring down hard and she hastened her movement, trying to escape the cold chill, finally settling, the rain's thudding lessening as she slammed the door shut, waving franticly at her friend as she disappeared from site.  
  
Breathing a sigh of relief that she was finally able to get home, to her parents and which ever one was, by now, dead, Sydney was quick to turn the ignition on and back out of the car park, tearing off down the street at a speed Sloane would have considered to be dangerous. Running a hand through her hair, she pulled her cell phone out and keyed in her own home number, without a second's hesitation, she hit the call button and put the phone on hands free, waiting for her father to answer.  
  
Back at her own place, there was already a distinctly hot atmosphere to the room, the air hanging thick and heavy as Jack struggled with his second button. Letting out a breath of air, he finally go tit undone and turned his mouth back to his wife's neck, revelling in the fact that her response was what could only be classed as wholly positive, her breath catching in her throat as he nipped at the sensitive skin of her throat. "Jack," she rasped, watching him as he licked down to her shoulder, the shirt hanging limply off thanks to the lack of buttons.  
  
She let her fingers play with his hair, each nail on each finger sliding precariously over the short grey strands, the tips of her fingers caressing down his own neck, trying to repay the favour he was doing her and not realising that her moans of contentment were payment enough. "Jack," she repeated, her words muffled by his hair as she buried her head to nuzzle his neck, "How much time do we have?"  
  
His lips left her skin for a second as he searched for his watch, turning back he realised that Irina had taken her chance and he was left with several buttons of his own undone. Grinning he tried to reply through his gasps for air, most of what he said loosing itself in her mouth as she pulled him to her for another deep kiss.  
  
"Honey," he pulled back, "We really don't have too much time. She could be home at any minute." She smirked, ignoring the fact that she was just as worried as he about her daughter's psychological damage and pushed him back onto the couch to lick at his own neck. Slowly, jack tried to make her see sense, all the while hoping to god she didn't and they never needed to stop, "Irina, we really should be careful.  
  
"Mmm hmm," she answered, smiling against his skin as he jerked beneath her, her teeth biting in a little harder than he'd expected.  
  
"That will mark," he yelped, rubbing at the spot.  
  
"And?" she responded, letting her hands wander down his back.  
  
"And," he explained, "I have to go to work tomorrow."  
  
"You'd like me to stop?" she asked, wrapping her neck expertly around his to kiss at the nape of his neck, a hand playing down his back.  
  
"God no," he said, deciding that conversation was, at that moment in time, a complete waste of time. "Never."  
  
She giggled the sound coming from deep in her throat and leaving Jack breathless just at the thought of the woman in front of him in his arms, smiling, his eyes bright, he let his hands trail down to the third button, intent of taking less than ten minutes on this one.  
  
But this was not to be, he would set no personal best time for undoing a button as the phone rang the second his hands met the tiny piece of plastic and while he ignored it, his wife couldn't, knowing that there was too much at risk for them to make a stupid mistake and not answer the phone. Pushing him hard, she left him lying on the floor, exactly where he'd landed with a thud, as she stood and offered him a hand.  
  
"Get up," she told him, her voice still thick and accented. "We have to answer that, it could be the CIA checking up on us." She watched as he rolled his eyes and moved to grab her, dodging she elaborated on her reasons, "If they get no answer and decide to send a squad over, image what they could find."  
  
She nodded as his face blushed red, "I don't think your superiors would approve."  
  
"No," he explained, moving to grab the telephone.  
  
#  
  
Sydney hung up as her cell went to the message, sighing and with her brows knitted she sped up, worried at what might have happened. Quickly she moved and pressed redial, waiting and hoping that someone would answer.  
  
#  
  
"Damn." Jack swore as the phone suddenly stopped ringing, silently he turned to Irina who sat, looking more cat-like than ever, on the couch he wished he was on as well. "It stopped," he stated the obvious.  
  
About to return to his more comfortable position, Jack smacked his hand down on the bench as the telephone started ringing again. Picking it up, he said rashly, "What?"  
  
#  
  
Sydney hesitated in answering at her father's angry tone but did as he asked a second time, "Hello?"  
  
"Dad. It's me, Sydney. Is everything all right?" she asked, swerving around a group of elderly men who watched the car go by with bewildered looks in place.  
  
Sighing, Jack answered, "Yeah, it's all fine over here." He paused and Sydney swore she heard her mother's voice. "Are you coming home now?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, maybe fifteen minutes away. What have you been up to?" she asked, slightly scared considering her father seemed both upset and out of breath, was it possible that he'd murdered Irina? "You sound out of breath."  
  
Again Sydney heard hesitation and quite clearly Jack's voice saying in what she could only describe as an amused tone, "She says I'm out of breath." To which there was a sharp laugh and then Jack's voice returned, now addressing Sydney, "Not much really."  
  
"Right," Sydney said, wondering but trying not to imagine, just what was going on. "Mom's okay?"  
  
"Hang on I'll ask." Jack said, his voice light and humoured. Returning to the phone he told her, "She says hello and claims that she's fine."  
  
Sydney breathed a sigh of belief before trying to end the conversation, "Well then, I'll see you in fifteen minutes."  
  
"Take your time," jack said before the phone went dead again bringing up doubts of what her parents were doing in Sydney's mind. Turning another corner, she sped up, hoping to make it hope with in ten minutes and to catch her father out in whatever horrible scheme he was orchestrating.  
  
What did you guys think, this was written very quickly and there qould hav ebeen a tone of mistake sin it, but I hope it was alright. Please review cause I know that I love em and look how quick I am when i get reviews, good or bad. [pic]Keep it up ppl. 


	25. Strawberries and Cream

Chapter Twenty Five  
  
"Fifteen minutes?" Irina asked, sounding quite put out as she watched Jack cross back over to her and kneel in front of where she sat, cross legged on the couch. "That's not very long."  
  
Jack shrugged, running his fingers over her thighs, "She'll speed, might be home earlier."  
  
"Hmmm," Irina watched Jack, her head cocked to the side as he looked straight back at her. "We can't possibly hope to....not in fifteen minutes."  
  
"And hope to be looking like we spent the last hour staring daggers at each other? No," Jack re-enforced. "Still, we have fifteen minutes, why waste it talking."  
  
"Why Jack," Irina laughed, reveling in the freedom and relaxation they were both feeling for the first time in years, "I had no idea the thought would even enter your mind."  
  
He chuckled, leaning up to kiss her soundly on the lips, pulling back his words were slurred against her shoulder, "I see you managed to do your buttons back up."  
  
Irina shrugged, running a hand through his hair, "Yes, I did." Grasping his face gently, she pulled his lips in to hers for another tentative kiss, "And they will not be being undone again. Sydney is going to be home soon." She stressed the last word in the hope of convincing herself on the matter as well as him. "Off," she pushed him back harshly, slowly coming to her senses and standing up. She was not going to force her daughter to walk in on them again.  
  
Crossing into the kitchen she quickly searched for something to do, finding very little and knowing Jack was standing in the only door way and thus, unless she was prepared to leap over the bench top, she was trapped, Irina quickly turned to the fridge, opening it with a grin on her face as she tried to avoid Jack's desire filled gaze, "What are you doing?" he questioned.  
  
"Looking for something to keep me occupied," she said, bending over to rummage through the lower sections of her daughter's jam packed fridge. Of course bending over gave Jack a perfect opportunity which he refused to miss, silently moving to slap her soundly but quick enough to leave him a good three meters away, on the behind. "Jack," to be honest, she was shocked, but definitely not dismayed.  
  
"What?" he asked innocently.  
  
She shook her head, at a loss as to how to handle the situation. Just ten more minutes and then there would be a proper umpire that would make sure they didn't lay a hand on each other. Knowing he'd be on his way over again, feet shuffling as he tried not to be heard, Irina was quick to grab the first thing she saw that she deemed edible. It was a crisp, relatively fresh container of overly red strawberries, obviously imported.  
  
Jack just watched, an a mused smile playing at his lips, as she glared at him, placing the strawberries on the bench and grabbing one, refusing outright to open her mouth until Jack closed his eyes, or so the look on her face seemed to implicate. Shaking his head, Jack turned to the fridge, watching his wife's reflection in the gleaming over front as she carefully ate a single strawberry. Licking his own lips he turned back, bottle of cream in his hand as he placed it beside where he own hand lingered.  
  
"You can't eat strawberries without cream," he explained, enjoying the way her mouth was hanging a few millimeters open, her eyes more almond shaped than ever and her lashes thick as she looked up at him through them.  
  
Irina tried to look elsewhere, tried to avoid him, look to the door, the bench, the couch, but her eyes always came back to his hand on the cream, up his arm to his broad chest to his eyes. The tension was killing her but she was determined not to have poor Sydney walk in on them doing anything she didn't deserve to see. "Jack," she warned as his fingers nimbly opened the cream, his other hand dropping to the cupboards beneath, searching for a plate and eventually finding one. "Don't make me do this."  
  
"I'm not making you do anything," he said, hoping he had time, hoping Sydney didn't walk in on them right then because he hadn't gotten what he wanted.  
  
"Sure," Irina drawled, turning away for a second but finding herself watching him seconds later.  
  
"Irina," his tone turned slightly more serious, "We're both good agents, we'll hear the car for sure."  
  
"And if we don't?" she asked, watching as his fingers danced over the strawberries, picking out the largest, reddest one he could find. Holing it at stalk, he dipped it into the cream he'd poured onto the plate before lifting it, the cream dripping down as he brought it closer and closer to her awaiting lips, pursed as she tried not to be drawn in.  
  
"Want some?" Jack asked, grinning to himself as she took a bite only to miss as he pulled back. "Want some?" he repeated.  
  
"Please," she said, mentally kicking herself for being so easy.  
  
"No," jack said chuckling as he took the fruit between his teeth and ate the whole thing, teasingly before her eyes.  
  
"I'm not impressed," Irina told him, her tone and the shortness of her breaths saying something else entirely.  
  
"Sorry," he said, quickly gathering another strawberry, drenched with cream into his hand. This time Irina didn't hesitate to quickly eat it, licking up the excess cream from Jack's fingers seductively.  
  
They repeated twice more, Irina returning the favor as they giggled together, the minutes ticking past. On one particularly messy go, Jack ended with cream on the side of his mouth, his tongue apparently unable to reach and his hands refusing to lift themselves as Irina tried, hopelessly to ignore the temptation. Upon giving up, she did her best not to let her hands wander but two minutes later their position was anything but innocent.  
  
Perhaps Sydney would have rathered arrive home to find her father and mother pulling each other's hair out, chasing each other around the house with chef's knives in hand, but instead, her and her rather unlucky mind which was always good at remembering details in particular vivid images, happened upon something far more unexpected and far more scandalous.  
  
It will always be asked how it was that two of the world's best agents managed to miss the sound of Sydney coming up the drive, especially considering the fact that she managed to break four garden gnomes and come with in an inch of a cat, but they did. Perhaps it was the roaring in their ears, the sound of the strawberries hitting the ground, or the cream on the carpet, shoes hitting the carpet or several uncalled for shrieks, yelps and moans, but that isn't what is important, instead, the dramatic image the she will now always remember is first and foremost the thing to know.  
Sorry bout the little cliff whatever, hope you liked, dared to include cream by a girl at school and I do believe that this includes cream, lol. Reviews please. 


	26. Reactions 2

Chapter Twenty Six  
  
The house itself was just as she had left it, everything relatively clean, no furniture upturned nothing on fire or hacked up with bullets. Ironically Sydney noticed the two cups of coffee sitting forgotten on the coffee table before turning her attention elsewhere. Taking everything in she did in the blink of an eye, literally because once she had her eyes shut they stayed that way. In total two socks and a shoe had made it over the bench, the remaining shoes and socks were in the kitchen side of the bench. Unluckily, on slamming Irina's back onto the bench, Jack had sent cream flying everywhere, the majority onto the carpet. Strawberries, mostly half eaten ones, also littered the ground but it was not the carpet stains that worried their unfortunate daughter.  
  
Jack's shirt was, somehow, still clinging to his shoulders, buttons either undone or popped off and now hiding beneath the couch. Irina had not been quite so lucky and her shirt was laid out beneath her on the bench, her arms having wriggled free sliding around her husband's waist. Despite both's attempts to remain in a respectable position it had taken a few stray drops of cream to have Jack attacking with more zest than should have been legal and that was what he would blame on his very handy state. His arms had wrapped around waist as he threw Irina back, his lips crashing into hers and not leaving once as every though left their minds.  
  
His hands had not, of course, remained in a dormant state but had, by the time Sydney had thrown the door open and walked inside, crept up to skim across Irina's body, ranging up from her bare abdomen to her shoulders and then back down working their way over every inch of exposed skin and teasing at anything still covered. His lips had quickly moved down her neck, forcing her, though willingly, to throw her head back, letting it hang loose over the edge of the bench as Jack let his lips wander to her collar bone, nipping and biting, wanting to leave his mark.  
  
Whether it was worse for Sydney that her eyes capture her mothers as she stalked in can't be known for sure but it was a brief look of horror that raced over both faces and seconds' later Sydney was voicing her thoughts, albeit in a jumbled manner, "Dad!" was the first word to leave her mouth, "Mom!" the second somewhat louder as if for some inane reason she had expected this of Jack but not of Irina. "I did not just see that." She raised a hand to her already tightly shut eyes and turned leaning up against the door as though trying to escape.  
  
Jack removed himself hastily, a flush of red rushing to his face as he turned to do the three remaining buttons of his shirt up and cross his arms on finding that three buttons would not do the job of eight. Irina sat up on the bench grabbing her shirt and quickly shrugging into it as she too did the buttons up, eyes locked with Jack's, not so much worried about their daughter but more on whether of not Jack was going to deny it and get angry again. On seeing the quick smile the graced his lips, she grinned meekly back, fully confident in the stability of their newly formed relationship before turned to their daughter who was, for what felt like the millionth time that day regretting letting her mother out of prison, still leaning, back to the both of them, on the front door.  
  
"Honey you really should have knocked," Jack tried.  
  
But she whirled around, happy to see a lot less skin than she had on entry, "Knocked?" she exclaimed, "It's my house."  
  
"Yes," Irina put in, "But still, you really shouldn't storm in like that."  
  
"I thought you might have been trying to kill each other." Sydney responded, still not moving an inch while she noticed that somehow her mother had stepped back to stand beside her father just over the bench inside the kitchen. "I mean what you did you do?" she asked motioning to the cream and strawberries. At the two very teenage like glances she quickly intervened in what could have been a very ugly description, in her eyes, "Don't answer that."  
  
"Sydney," Jack paused, "You didn't deserve to see that...twice. I'm sorry." He conceded.  
  
"Me too," Irina added, accent wound around her words, "But I think that once your father and I have a nice little chat," she glanced at the man behind her, "You might have to get used to it."  
  
The waver in her voice, the first time there had ever been a waver in her voice had Jack wanting to wrap an arm around her but he refrained and on seeing the look crossing Sydney's face rephrased Irina's statement not realizing that he was agreeing with it at the same time, "We mean not watching but you should get used to the idea."  
  
Irina turned, unable to help herself as a look of wonder crossed her face and she rose a hand to Jack's face, caressing his cheek tenderly, "I don't understand..." she said, having expected him to at the very least have gone back to his cold self.  
  
"Later," Jack explained, motioning her back to Sydney who stood, stock still watching with the classic mix of fascination and repulsion. "We need to make arrangements." He grinned outright at the confused look that overtook both his girls' faces. "Sit," he motioned them both to the two couches that faced each other and began to make his way, shocking everyone when he grasped Irina's hand to lead her over and lower her down next to him. An acceptable amount of air between them despite their hands still being joined, Irina's thumb running over the back of Jacks' hand.  
  
"Now," Jack began only to be cut off by Sydney.  
  
"You realize that she's supposed to back in her cell in forty minutes."  
  
"What?" Irina cut in, the idea of solace no longer welcoming at all.  
  
Jack glanced at his watch, "Then this will have to be quick." Glimpsing the edge of fear in Irina's eyes he was quick to quell it, "Honey, don't worry."  
  
For a second Irina hesitated, not sure presenting herself as vulnerable would be too smart but eventually resorted to the truth, for once, "I don't want to go back there."  
  
"I realize that," Jack responded but she overrode him, wonderment again present on her face.  
  
"Did you just call me honey?" she asked, sitting up a little.  
  
A smug grin overtook his face as he realized he had but before being able to comment, Sydney stopped him, "I really don't want to know. Now what arrangements were you referring to?" 


	27. Arrangments

Chapter Twenty Seven He smiled at his daughter, not entirely sure what she was going through, but too happy to really mind that much, she didn't seem too upset, just a little grossed out. He took her second question and rubbed his hands together, like a man with a secret, "I don't want to tell you until I make sure it's possible. "  
  
"Then why did you bring it up?" Irina asked, beating Sydney to the question.  
  
"I have to make some calls." Jack responded, quite ignoring his wife and standing, motioning for them not to move and inch as he grabbed the cordless phone and left the room.  
  
Irina just looked over to where Sydney sat and shrugged, leaning back as she got comfortable and letting her arm rest on the back of the chair. She, in all honesty wasn't prepared to think about what it was Jack was trying to make happen and wasn't going to discuss it with her daughter at that very point in time despite the curious and suspicious look she was getting from across the coffee table. To her daughter's un-voiced question, she said, "I have no idea." Which was a slight lie but better than rambling.  
  
Sydney watched for a moment. Then she settled back, mirroring her mother's movements. Irina waited for the question, "I know asking this is basically like having a death-wish but..." Sydney began watching her mother for a reaction, "What exactly is going on with you two?"  
  
Irina's eyes turned to slits as she thought a moment before answering the best she could, "We've come to an understanding, an agreement."  
  
Sydney nodded, knowing perfectly well that her mother was not intentionally being evasive but knew not the words needed to express her thoughts. "And is it going to last long?"  
  
Irina's brow creased again, "What do you mean?"  
  
Sydney sat up a little straighter, "Is it, whatever it is, going to last?"  
  
Irina nodded, understanding Sydney's suspicion and worry for her father who, for al Sydney knew, could have been walking into Irina's trap unthinkingly again. It was natural for her to replace her father's tentativeness now that his own was gone. "Forever," she promised, simply.  
  
Jack returned, rubbing his hands together, "I don't believe I just did that." He stated this with an air of both shock and amazement. Obviously he was up to something and instead of wasting their time with useless questions, Sydney and Irina just waited for an answer to the unspoken question. Jack obliged them a moment later by beginning the tale: "You remember my old friend Derek?" he directed the question at Irina who nodded, to which he elaborated for Sydney, "My best friend when I was a junior agent.  
  
"Well, he's excelled further than me it turns out and gone with the desk job rather than missions. He's right now about three levels from the top of the CIA." Irina's eyes narrowed as the pieces of the puzzles slid closer to a solution. "He owes me a favor...a big one. Back on a reconnaissance op I found him on the plane home a little overly cozy with another agent. At that time he was engaged to a wonderful woman who is now his wife. I can be quite confident in saying that she would be quick to leave with most of his money and their kids should she ever find out about the several one night stands he had up until their marriage."  
  
"Dad..." Sydney started, showing her obvious discontent with his actions but not voicing them sufficiently enough to wipe the smile from his face.  
  
"Anyway, he owes me a large favor and he's just repaid it."  
  
"How?" Irina asked, barely able to contain her excitement.  
  
Jack smiled, happily and honestly for the first time in many years, "As of tomorrow, you will be released into a program similar to witness protection but slightly better, I think." Irina's eyes lit up along with their daughter's and Jack gave them a second to enjoy the feeling, "If you would only be so kind to help out our analysts with their access to your assets that we froze when we first caught you, the CIA has agreed to give you 10% back."  
  
Irina's eyebrows rose at the generous deal Jack had somehow struck but she couldn't speak.  
  
"That 10% you will use to buy yourself a house, away from the inner city and large enough that guards on the perimeter wouldn't have to be seen by you. Possibly a nice house with extensive gardens and a fence. You will be kept there under strict surveillance and disallowed to leave for the first six months. After that you will be injected with a tracking device and permitted to go into town. A further year and a half later you will be given complete freedom except for the tracking device. This all depends on your continued cooperation with the CIA." His stern look made it clear that he past definition of cooperation was not going to suffice.  
  
"And what?" Sydney butted in, splitting the locked eyes of her parents, "That's it?"  
  
"Pretty much," Jack said.  
  
She nodded, still not convinced and her mind set on harassing the crap out of Kendall the next day in trying to work out the exact details of a plan she had to say was precarious to say the least. "And what about tonight?" Irina questioned.  
  
"Up to you. You can stay here go to my house of back to the cell."  
  
"Oh the cell for sure," she told him, voice dripping with her usual mixture of sarcasm and accent.  
  
He grinned, looking over at the clock, the minute hand was just inching its way over the twelve, telling them that it was both past one in the morning and past their bed times. He stood, stretching a little, "Come on," he motioned to Irina, making her mind up for her as he kissed Sydney's cheek and dragged Irina out the front door before sweeping her into his arms and kissing her on the lips soundly, clearly in bliss at the idea of her free and available to him.  
  
"We need to get home," he told her, knowing his car was still parked near her cell and many miles away. "Cab?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, but we're going to have to find one." She grasped his hand as they walked out onto the quiet night and turned left, heading back into the still bustling and alive centre of the city.  
  
He encouraged her to lean on him until her head was on his shoulder, her fingers still entwined with his, "I'll enjoy the walk." Keep the reviews coming if you want to see more. 


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